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BESSIE    AT    SCHOOL. 


BESSIE 
AT  SCHOOL 


BY    JOANNA    H.    MATTHEWS 

AUTHOR  OF  "BESSIE  ON  HER  TRAVELS," 
"BESSIE  AT  THE  SEASIDE,"  "BESSIE 
AMONG  THE  MOUNTAINS,"  "BESSIE 
AND  HER  FRIENDS,"  "BESSIE  IN  THE 
CITY,"  ETC. 


I  llu  s  t  rated 


Boston  :     DEWOLFE,      FISKE 
AND      COMPANY,      PUBLISHERS 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  iS6q 

BY  ROBERT  CARTER  AND  BROTHERS 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States 
for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York 


Bessie  at  School 


TO 

Sunbeam  of  our  Sngfji 

MV  HSTKB  GKBTBUD*. 


PREFACE. 


|  HE  author  had  intended  that  "  Bessie 
among  the  Mountains"  should  close 
the  series ;  but  the  entreaties  of  her 
young  readers  for  "  more  Bessie  books  "  have 
induced  the  publishers  and  herself  to  extend 
it  somewhat  farther. 

The  following  gratifying  and  touching  com- 
munication is  given  here  in  the  hope  that  this 
may  meet  the  eye  of  her  little  unknown  cor- 
respondent —  who  has  not  given  her  residence 
-  and  that  she  will  send  word  where  a  letter 
may  reach  her :  — 

DEAR  LADY,  —  I  love  you  for  you  write  each  nice 
Bessie  books  and  I  want  to  see  you  but  I  dont  kno 
where  you  live  and  papa  says  I  can  send  this  to  Mr. 
Carter.  Please  write  a  100  Bessie  books  Bessie  in  truble 
and  Bessie  in  plesure  Bessie  sick  Bessie  well  and  all. 
But  not  her  mama  to  go  to  heven  for  my  mama  and  the 


viri  Preface. 

baby  went  to  heven  and  T  cry  ahot  it  yet  and  1  want  my 
mama  in  my  boeme.  1  am  name  Bessie  but  not  so  nice 
as  book  Bessie  aud  I  have  2  Maggies  one  my  sister 
nice  and  good  and  one  not  nice  and  only  a  chamermade 
and  dirty.  And  I  love  you  dear  lady  and  here  is  a 
kits  ;  j  for  you. 

BKSSIK 

But  pleased  as  the  writer  is  with  this  pre- 
cious little  letter  she  feels  that  "  a  100  Bessie 
books "  would  tire  even  this  enthusiastic 
young  reader,  and  so  if  the  little  friends  who 
have  gone  with  Maggie  and  Bessie  to  the  sea- 
side and  the  mountains,  who  have  visited 
them  in  their  home  and  accompanied  them 
to  school,  will  by  and  by  go  with  them  on  their 
travels,  we  will  afterwards  say  good-by  to 
them,  with  kind  wishes  on  both  sides,  and 
the  hope  that  there  may  be  other  children  in 
some  corner  of  her  brain  whose  acquaintance 
will  not  be  less  agreeable  than  that  of  our 
Maggie  and  Bessie. 

'     J  H.  M. 


CONTENTS. 


I.  A  SURPRISE 9 

II.  .  GRANDMAMMA'S  STOBT 81 

HI.  SCHOOL 67 

IV.  SCHOOLMATES    .    .         80 

V.  THE  PRIZES 106 

VI.  BELLB 128 

VII.  THE  HURT  FOOT 160 

VIII.  THE  BROKEN  ULOCK 174 

IX  THE  CONFESSION 193 

X.  A  LITTLE  LIGHT 214 

XI.  ABOUT  "Oca  FATHBB'S"  Wowt   ....  239 

XII.  BESSIE'S  PAKTT 263 

XIII.  LOST  AND  FOUND 286 

XIV.  THB  AWABD » 810 

XV.  A  LETTER .         .887 


BESSIE  AT  SCHOOL. 


L 

A    SURPRISE. 

JESSIE  lay  fast  asleep  upon  mamma's 
sofa,  for  she  and  Maggie  had  been 
with  Uncle  Ruthven  and  Aunt  Bessie 
for  a  long  drive ;  and  the  little  one,  quite 
tired,  had  curled  herself  up  among  the  cush- 
ions, and  still  was  nestling  there,  unconscious 
of  all  that  was  passing. 

Mamma  thought  it  a  good  thing  that  her 
delicate  little  girl  could  drop  off  to  sleep  so 
easily,  and  so  gain  the  rest  she  needed  after 
any  fatigue ;  but  wide-awake  Maggie  thought 
it  rather  a  troublesome  fashion  of  Bessie's,  and 
wondered  that  any  one,  who  was  not  obliged 


IO  Bessie  at  School. 

to  do  it,  could  "  waste  being  alive  in  taking 
naps." 

But  just  now  she  did  not  mind  this  quite  a? 
much  as  usual,  for  she  was  sitting  on  a  lo~w 
stool  at  her  mother's  feet,  busy  copying  a  let- 
ter to  Mrs.  Porter,  which  she  and  Bessie  had 
composed  together.  For  Maggie  no  longer 
printed  her  letters  and  compositions,  but 
wrote  them  in  a  large  round  hand,  quite 
easy  to  read.  But,  in  order  to  do  it  well, 
she  had  to  pay  close  attention  to  her  writing ; 
and,  since  Bessie  could  not  help  her,  she  was 
contented  to  have  her  lie  quietly  asleep  on  the 
sofa  for  the  time.  Mrs.  Bradford  was  leaning 
back  upon  the  pillows  in  her  easy-chair,  look 
ing  so  pale  and  thin  and  weak,  that  even  a 
child  could  have  told  that  she  had  been  ill. 

Indeed  she  had  been,  the  dear,  precious 
mamma,  —  so  ill,  that,  for  some  days,  it 
seemed  as  if  she  woro  to  be  taken  from  her 
little  ones.  But  the  merciful  Father  above 
had  heard  and  granted  the  prayers  of  all  the 
loving  hearts  whose  earthly  happiness  she 


A  Surprise.  n 

made,  and  hope  and  joy  came  back  to  the 
pleasant  home  from  which,  for  a  time,  they 
had  flown  away.  It  had  been  a  great  delight 
to  Maggie  and  Bessie  to  see  her  walk  into  the 
nursery,  leaning  on  papa's  arm,  that  morning; 
and  even  baby  Annie  seemed  to  know  it  was 
something  to  rejoice  at,  for  she  came  toddling 
to  her  mamma,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  skirts, 
with  a  sweet,  crowing  laugh,  which  was  full 
of  joy  and  love. 

And  when,  a  little  while  after,  Bessie  sat 
looking  earnestly  at  her  mother,  with  eyes 
which  seemed  as  if  they  could  not  take  their 
fill,  and  was  asked  by  her  of  what  she  was 
thinking,  the  answer  was,  — 

"  I  was  thinking  two  things,  mamma.  One 
was,  what  a  very  great  thanksgiving  we  ought 
to  make ;  and,  the  other  was,  how  very  dis- 
appointed the  angels  must  be,  not  to  have  you 
in  Heaven,  after  all." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Maggie,  "  I  guess  the  angela 
are  too  glad  for  us  to  be  very  sorry  for  their 
own  disappointment." 


12  Bessie  at  &chool. 

But  though  mamma  was  much  better,  she 
was  still  very  feeble,  and  it  was  necessary  that 
she  should  be  very  careful  not  to  fatigue  or 
excite  herself;  and  the  doctor  said  it  would  be 
some  weeks,  perhaps  months,  before  she  would 
be  able  to  go  about  her  usual  duties  and  occu 
pations. 

A  book  lay  upon  Mrs.  Bradford's  lap, 
but  she  was  not  reading.  She  sat  watching 
the  busy  fingers  of  her  little  daughter  with 
a  look  that  was  somewhat  anxious  and 
troubled. 

"  There ! "  said  Maggie  at  last,  looking  up 
from  her  letter  with  a  satisfied  air,  "  when 
Bessie  has  put  her  name  under  mine,  it  will 
be  all  done.  Do  you  think  Mrs.  Porter  will  be 
able  to  make  it  out,  mamma  ?  " 

"  If  she  does  not,  I  think  it  will  be  the 
fault  of  her  eyes,  and  not  of  my  Maggie's 
Kugers,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  smiling  as  she 
looked  at  the  large,  plain  letters  upon  the  sheet 
which  Maggie  held  up  before  her.  "  That  is 
\rerv  well  done,  my  daughter ;  and  Mrs.  Porter 


A  Surprise.  13 

will  be  gratified  when  she  sees  how  much  pains 
you  have  taken." 

Well  pleased  at  her  mother's  praise,  which 
she  certainly  deserved,  Maggie  carefully  laid 
by  her  letter  until  Bessie  should  be  awake  to 
sign  it,  and  then  came  back  to  mamma's  side 
for  a  little  petting  and  loving. 

"  Maggie  darling,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford  pres- 
ently, laying  her  thin  hand  caressingly  on  the 
rosy  cheek  which  nestled  against  her  shoulder, 
"  how  should  you  like  to  go  to  school  ?  " 

Maggie  raised  her  head  quickly. 

"  0  mamma !  "  she  exclaimed. 

Mrs.  Bradford  had  folly  expected  to  see 
just  such  a  look,  and  hear  just  such  a  tone ; 
but  she  only  said,  "  Well,  dear  ?  " 

"Mamma,  I  never  could  bear  it,  —  nevei, 
never.  Why,  I  suppose  you  would  not  teach 
us  any  longer  then ;  and  besides,  mamma, 
strange  girls  go  to  school,  do  they  not  ?  " 

"  Girls  who  are  strangers  to  you,  you  mean, 
dear?" 

"Yes'm." 


14  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  slowly  for 
this  was  even  a  greater  trial  to  her  than  it 
was  to  Maggie.  "  I  suppose  there  would  be 
some  girls  whom  you  did  not  know,  but  not  a 
great  many ;  for  it  would  be  but  a  small  class 
to  which  I  should  send  you.  Do  you  rernem 
ber  that  pleasant  Miss  Ashton  whom  you  saw 
here  one  day,  just  after  we  came  home  from 
Chalecoo  ?  " 

"  Yes'm ;  and  we  liked  her  looks  so 
much." 

"  Well,  she  is  going  to  have  a  class  of 
little  girls  for  two  or  three  hours  each  day. 
Lily  Norris,  Gracie  Howard,  and  one  or  two 
others  whom  you  know,  are  to  join  it ;  and  she 
came  here  to  know  if  I  would  like  you  to  do 
so.  But  I  wished  still  to  teach  you  myself, 
this  winter,  and  said  '  no.'  But  now  that  I 
have  been  so  ill,  I  feel  that  I  must  give  up 
this  pleasure,  for  it  will  not  do  for  you  to  lose 
so  much  time.  So,  as  Miss  Ashton  has  still 
one  or  two  places  to  be  filled,  I  think  I  shall 
send  you  to  her.  You  will  not  find  it  hard 


15 

after  the  first  day  or  two.  Miss  Ashton  is  a 
very  kind,  gentle  young  lady;  you  already 
know  several  of  your  classmates,  and  with 
the  rest  you  will  soon  become  acquainted, 
Miss  Ashton's  mother  is  to  have  a  class  of 
older  girls,  but  they  will  be  in  another  room, 
and  need  not  interfere  with  you.  With  all 
this  to  make  it  easy  and  agreeable  for  you, 
do  you  not  think  you  will  be  able  to  bear 
it  ?  " 

"  I  could  not ;  indeed,  mamma,  I  could  not," 
said  Maggie,  making  a  great  effort  to  speak 
steadily. 

"  Not  if  it  would  be  a  great  help  to  your 
sick  mother,  dear  ?  " 

Maggie  swallowed  the  lump  in  her  throat, 
winked  her  eyes  very  hard  to  keep  back  the 
tears,  and  answered :  "  Yes,  if  it  would  be 
that,  I  could,  mamma.  I  think  I  would  do 
any  thing  that  would  be  a  help  to  you,  even 
if  it  did  hurt  my  own  feelings  dreadfully." 

"  My  own  dear  little  girl !  "  said  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford, tenderly  kissing  the  flushed  face  which 


1 6  Bessie  at  School. 

looked  up  into  hers  so  wistfully.  "  But  I  do 
not  believe  you  will  find  this  as  hard  a  trial 
as  you  imagine,  Maggie.  After  the  first  day 
or  two,  I  hope  you  will  not  only  be  quite 
willing  to  go  to  school,  but  that  you  will 
really  take  pleasure  in  it." 

Maggie  shook  her  head  very  dolefully. 

"  That  could  never  be,  mamma ;  but  I  will 
try  not  to  feel  too  badly  about  it.  But,"  with 
a  look  at  her  sleeping  sister,  "  I  am  glad 
Bessie  won't  mind  it  so  much  as  I  will. 
She'll  feel  very  badly  to  know  you're  not 
going  to  teach  us  any  more,  but  then  she 
won't  care  so  much  about  the  strange  girls 
and  the  strange  school." 

Mrs.  Bradford  looked  troubled.  She  had 
not  imagined  that  Maggie  thought  she  meant 
to  send  Bessie  to  school  also,  and  now  thai 
Bhe  saw  this  was  so,  she  knew  what  a  blow  it 
would  be  to  the  poor  child  to  hear  that  her 
sister  was  not  to  go. 

"  My  darling,"  she  said,  "  we  do  not  intend 
—your  father  and  I — to  send  Bessie  to  school 


A  Surprise.  17 

thi?  winter.  We  think  her  too  young,  and  not 
strong  enough,  and  that  much  study  would 
not  be  good  for  her." 

Poor  Maggie !  This  was  more  than  she 
had  bargained  to  "bear,"  the  one  drop  too 
much  in  her  full  cup.  She  could  no  longer 
choke  back  her  tears,  but  fell  into  a  passion 
of  sobbing  and  crying,  which  her  mother  found 
it  impossible  for  some  minutes  to  quiet.  It 
was  only  the  recollection  that  her  mamma 
must  not  be  worried,  which,  at  last,  helped 
the  child  to  conquer  it.  And  it  was  Bessie 
who  put  her  in  mind  of  this ;  for  her  sobs  had 
roused  her  little  sister,  who,  waking  and  slip- 
ping down  from  the  sofa,  came  running  to 
know  what  could  be  the  matter  with  her 
usually  merry,  cheerful  Maggie. 

"  Maggie  dear,"  said  the  thoughtful  Bessie, 
r<  1  'm  very  sorry  for  you,  but  you  know  the 
doctor  said  mamma  was  not  to  have  any 
ercitement  or  'sturbance,  and  I'm  'fraid 
you're  making  one  for  her.  I  s'pose  you 
forgot." 


1 8  Bessie  at  School. 

In  another  moment  Maggie  had  checked 
her  loud  sobs,  though  the  tears  would  noi 
be  controlled  just  yet ;  and  looking  from  hei 
to  her  mother's  anxious  face,  a  new  fear  came 
into  Bessie's  mind. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  looking  wistfully  up 
at  her  mother,  "  is  our  Father  going  to  make 
you  worse  again,  and  take  you  away  from  us 
after  all?" 

"  No,  my  darling ;  1  trust  not,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford.  "  Maggie's  trouble  is  by  no  means 
so  great  a  one  as  that :  is  it,  dear  Maggie  ?  I 
have  just  been  telling  her  that  she  is  to  go  to 
school  this  winter,  and  she  is  rather  dis- 
tressed ;  but  she  will  soon  feel  better  about 
it.  She  will  only  be  away  for  two  or  three 
hours  each  day,  and  will  soon  be  quite  accus- 
tomed to  her  new  teacher  and  her  classmates, 
and  learn  to  like  them." 

Bessie  looked  very  sober,  and,  after  a  mo- 
ment, she  said,  with  a  long  sigh,  — 

"Well,  dear  mamma,  you  know  it  is  a 
pretty  great  trial  to  think  you  can't  teach  us 


A  Surprise.  19 

now ;  but  wo  '11  try  not  to  mind  it  so  much  aa 
to  make  you  feel  bad,  and  maybe  I  can  help 
Maggie  to  get  used  to  the  girls  and  the 
teacher,  'cause  you  know  I  am  not  so  shy 
as  she  is,  and  I  s'pose  I'll  'come  acquainted 
with  them  sooner  than  she  will.  And  if  we 
don't  like  the  other  girls  very  much,  we  won't 
mind  it  when  we  have  each  other :  need  we. 
Maggie  ? "  and  she  took  her  sister's  han<S 
with  a  tender,  protecting  air,  which  was  both 
amusing  and  touching  to  see. 

So  the  little  one  herself  was  also  taking  it 
for  granted,  that,  since  Maggie  was  to  go  to 
school,  she  was  to  go  too. 

It  was  only  natural,  as  the  mother  knew. 
They  had  never  been  separated ;  one  never 
half  enjoyed  a  pleasure,  unless  the  other 
shared  it ;  and  all  their  childish  troubles 
were  made  lighter  and  easier  to  bear,  be- 
cause they  were  together,  and  could  give 
comfort  and  help  to  one  another ;  and  Mrs. 
Bradford  was  sure  it  would  be  as  great  a 
blow  te  Bessie  as  it  had  been  to  Maggie  to 


2O  Bessie  at  School. 

know  that  they  were  to  be  parted  even  for 
two  or  three  hours  each  day. 

"  But  I  mean  to  keep  my  Bessie  at  homa 
with  me,"  she  said,  trying  to  speak  cheer- 
fully ;  "  and  every  day,  when  Maggie  comes 
back,  she  will  tell  us  all  she  has  seen  and 
learned ;  and  it  will  be  nice  to  watch  for  her, 
and  have  some  little  pleasure  ready  for  her, 
when  she  returns  to  us,  will  it  not  ?  " 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  struggling  with  her- 
self, lest  she,  too,  should  break  down  in  tears, 
and  so  distress  her  mother,  but  still  speaking 
with  a  very  quivering  voice,  —  "  Mamma,  you 
never  could  mean  that  Maggie  is  to  go  to 
school  without  me,  could  you  ?  You  are 
making  rather,  a  bad  joke,  are  you  not  ?  " 

The  beseeching  voice,  the  pleading  eyes, 
and  trembling  lips,  went  straight  to  the 
mother's  heart,  and  would  not  let  her  smile 
at  the  innocent  ending  of  Bessie's  speech. 

"  I  really  mean  what  I  say,  darling,"  she 
answered.  "  Papa  and  I  have  talked  it  all 
over,  and  although  we  know  it  is  hard  for  you 


A  Surprise.  21 

and  Maggie  to  be  separated  even  for  a  little 
while,  we  do  not  think  it  best  for  you  to  go. 
You  are  not  very  strong,  and  it  would  not  be 
well  for  you  to  study  much  for  a  year  or,  two. 
If  you  were  with  other  children,  you  might  try 
too  hard,  for  you  know  you  do  not  like  to  be 
left  behind ;  and  as  you  can  read  pretty  well 
now,  we  think  we  will  let  you  be  a  lazy  little 
girl  for  this  winter,  and  keep  you  at  home  to 
take  care  of  mamma." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  earnestly,  "  you 
know  I  'd  rather  be  with  you  than  anywhere, 
even  with  my  own  Maggie  ;  and  I  only  want 
to  go  to  school  on  'count  of  Maggie's  sake. 
But  you  have  a  great  many  people  to  take 
care  of  you,  'cause  papa  or  grandmamma  or 
one  of  the  aunties  stays  with  you  all  the  time"; 
and  poor  Maggie  would  be  so  very  lonesome 
without  any  of  her  own  people.  And,  mamma, 
it  seems  pretty  queer  to  want  a  little  girl  to  be 
lazy ;  but  if  you  'd  like  me  to,  I  '11  be  so  very 
lazy  that  Miss  Ashton  will  say, '  Go  to  the  aot, 
thou  sluggard.' " 


22  Bessie  at  School. 

Mrs.  Bradford  could  not  help  smiling ;  but 
ghe  said,  "  That  might  do,  dear,  if  Miss  Ash- 
ton  were  to  teach  no  one  but  yourself  and 
Maggie ;  but  she  would  probably  think  it 
would  not  answer  to  have  a  little  girl  in 
her  class  who  could  not  do  as  the  others 
did.  She  might  say  it  would  be  a  bad  ex 
ample,  or  that  the  rest  might  think  it  was 
not  fair." 

"  But,  mamma,"  pleaded  Bessie,  "  don't 
you  think  if  you  told  Miss  Ashton  how  very 
fond  Maggie  and  I  are  of  each  other,  and  how 
badly  she  would  feel  if  she  had  to  go  without 
me,  it  might  have  a  little  persuasion  for  her  ? 
You  know  you  were  very  kind  to  her  when 
her  father  died,  and  maybe  she  would  like  to 
have  some  gratitude  for  you." 

"  I  dare  say  Miss  Ashton  would  be  very 
glad  to  please  me,  Bessie ;  but  she  has  to  con- 
sider not  so  much  what  she.  would  like,  as 
what  is  right  and  best  to  do.  However,  she 
is  coming  here  this  afternoon  for  my  answer 
about  Maggie,  and  I  will  ask  her  if  she  can 


A  Surprise.  23 

make  any  arrangement  that  will  do  for  you. 
If  she  can,  then  we  will  see  what  papa  says ; 
but  I  do  not  wish  either  of  you  to  think  too 
much  about  it,  lest  you  should  be  disappointed 
in  the  end." 

Mamma  talked  to  them  a  little  longer,  try- 
ing to  persuade  them  to  look  on  the  bright 
side  of  this,  to  them,  great  trouble  ;  till  Bessie, 
noticing  how  weak  her  voice  was,  and  how 
pale  she  looked,  asked  if  she  were  not  tired. 
Mamma  said,  "  Yes,"  and  that  she  thought  she 
must  rest  a  while  if  she  were  to  see  Miss  Ash- 
ton  that  afternoon. 

This  was  enough  for  the  tender  little  nurses ; 
and  grandmamma,  who  had  left  them  in  charge, 
coming  in  soon  after,  found  Mrs.  Bradford 
asleep  on  the  sofa,  with  Maggie  gently  rubbing 
her  feet,  and  Bessie  as  softly  threading  her 
fingers  through  her  mother's  hair.  But  quiet 
as  they  were,  their  thoughts  were  very  busy, 
and  their  hearts  very  full ;  and  Maggie,  con- 
trary to  her  usually  cheerful  spirit,  had  been 
imagining  all  kinds  of  disagreeable  occur- 


24  Bessie  at  School. 

rences  which  might  happen  to  her  at  school, 
and  looking  upon  herself  quite  as  a  little 
martyr  ;  and  now,  as  her  grandmamma  nod- 
ded and  smiled  at  her,  she  was  surprised  not 
only  to  see  the  traces  of  tears  on  her  cheeks, 
but  also  that  her  eyes  were  still  swimming ; 
while  Bessie's  face  wore  the  piteous  look  it 
always  did  when  any  thing  had  distressed  her. 
Seeing  that  Mrs.  Bradford  was  fast  asleep,  and 
would  not  be  disturbed  if  her  children  ceased 
their  loving  tending,  she  beckoned  them  into 
their  own  room,  where,  sitting  down  on  a  low 
chair,  she  lifted  Bessie  on  her  lap,  and  draw 
ing  Maggie  to  her,  asked  what  had  grieved 
them. 

Their  trouble  was  soon  told;  but  grand- 
mamma having  known  before  that  the  thing 
was  to  be,  was  not  surprised,  nor  as  shocked 
as  Maggie  had  expected  and  hoped  she  would 
be.  Now,  perhaps  some  of  you  little  girls, 
who  know  what  a  happy,  pleasant  place  a 
school  may  be,  will  think  our  Maggie  very 
foolish  to  dread  it  so  much ;  but  those  among 


A  Surprise.  25 

you  who  are  shy  and  timid,  will  have  some 
idea  of  how  she  felt.  Her  fear  of  strangers 
was  really  a  great  cross  to  her,  and  she  would 
even  sometimes  refuse  some  offered  pleasure 
rather  than  be  thrown  with  people  whom  she 
did  not  know.  This  was  one  reason  why  her 
mamma  thought  it  was  better  for  her  to  go  to 
school,  that,  being  with  other  children,  might 
help  to  rub  off  this  uncomfortable  shyness,  so 
troublesome  to  herself  and  her  friends. 

"  Mr.  Porter  said  once,"  said  Maggie,  when 
Bessie  had  finished  her  doleful  story,  "  that 
God  sometimes  had  to  take  away  our  blessings 
to  teach  us  how  much  they  were  worth ;  and 
I  'm  afraid  it 's  just  for  that  He  is  punishing 
me  this  way,  for  I  don't  think  I  ever  knew  till 
now  what  a  great  blessing  it  was  to  have 
mamma  teach  me,  and  sometimes  I  even  used 
to  feel  a  little  cross  when  she  called  us  to  our 
lessons.  So  I  s'pose  when  I  was  so  ungrate- 
ful, He  thought  it  was  just  good  enough  for 
me  to  go  to  a  hateful  old  school  full  of  strange 
girls  and  a  strange  teacher  and  every  thing, 


20  Bessie  at  School. 

and  not  Bessie  to  go,  nor  any  one  who  lo\ea 
me.  Oh,  dear !  oh,  dear !  "  and  Maggie  now 
gave  way  to  the  tears  and  sobs  which  she  had 
checked  before,  for  fear  they  should  distress 
her  sick  mother. 

Her  grandmamma  let  her  cry  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, thinking  it  might  make  her  feel  better ; 
but  when  she  was  quieter,  she  said  gently,  "  ] 
do  not  think  you  are  looking  at  this  quite  in 
the  right  way,  dear  Maggie." 

"  How,  grandmamma  ?  "  asked  Maggie,  wip- 
ing her  eyes. 

"  To  look  at  it  as  a  punishment,  dear.  I 
know  this  is  a  trial  for  you,  indeed  it  seems  to 
you  now  like  a  great  hardship,  though  I  trust 
you  will  learn  to  feel  differently  about  it.  But 
God  does  not  always  send  trials  as  punish- 
ments." 

"  What  then,  grandmamma  ?  " 

"  Well,  He  may  send  troubles  to  us  to  work 
But  some  good  purpose  of  His  own  that  we 
cannot  know  of,  or  they  may  even  be  sent  as 
blessings,  though  we  do  not  see  it  at  the  time." 


A  Surprise.  27 

"Oh!"  said  Maggie,  "I  s'pose  that  was 
what  Aunt  Helen  meant  the  other  day  whei; 
she  talked  about  '  blessings  in  disguise.' ': 

"  Yes,"  answered  Mrs.  Stanton ;  "  but  do 
you  know  what  disguise  means,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Maggie.  "  It  means  to 
dress  yourself  up  so  that  nobody  would  know 
you  ;  and  if  my  going  to  school  is  a  blessing, 
I  think  it  is  a  very  disguised  one  indeed" 

Mrs.  Stanton  could  not  help  smiling  a  little, 
though  she  was  sorry  to  hear  Maggie's  rebel- 
lious tone. 

"  Grandmamma,"  said  Bessie,  "  do  you  think 
'  our  Father '  has  a  purpose  in  having  Maggie 
go  to  school  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear.  We  may  always  be  sure  that 
whatever  He  orders  for  us  is  for  some  wise 
and  holy  purpose  of  His  own.  It  may  be  He 
sees  this  will  be  good  for  Maggie,  or  He  may 
have  some  work  for  her  to  do  for  Him." 

"  But  I  know  I  could  work  and  study  a 
great  deal  better  at  home  with  my  own 
mamma,  and  my  own  Bessie,  than  I  could 


28  Bessie  at  School. 

in  a  hateful  school  with  a  cross,  ugly  teacher," 
said  Maggie. 

"  0  Maggie  !  "  said  Bessie,  "  Miss  Ashtoii 
is  not  ugly.  Don't  you  know  we  thought  she 
looked  so  nice  and  pleasant  ?  And  I  don't 
believe  she  is  cross,  either,  or  mamma  would 
not  let  you  go  to  her." 

"  No,"  said  grandmamma :  "  Miss  Ashton  is 
neither  cross  nor  ugly ;  but  Maggie  is  looking 
at  her  and  at  her  school  through  the  specta- 
cles of  discontent,  which  hide  all  that  is  good, 
and  make  all  that  is  bad  appear  far,  far  worse 
than  the  reality.  Take  them  off,  Maggie,  and 
look  at  things  with  your  own  honest,  cheerful 
eyes.  It  may  be  that  the  great  Teacher  above 
has  some  lesson  for  you  to  learn  that  you  do 
not  know  of,  —  some  special  work  for  you  to 
do  for  Him." 

"  I  don't  see  how  a  little  girl  like  me  could 
do  any  work  for  Him  in  school,  except  to 
learn  my  lessons  well,"  said  Maggie,  "  and  I 
could  do  that  at  home." 

"  When  you  were  at  Chalecoo  last  summer, 


A  Surprise.  29 

did  not  the  Lord  Jesus  give  you  work  to  do 
for  Him,  such  as  you  had  no  thought  of  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Maggie,  softened  at  once ;  "  and 
it  was  a  very  happy  work  ;  and  I  am  very  glad 
He  made  us  of  a  heart  to  do  it." 

"  And  if  you  ask  Him,  darling,  He  will 
always  give  you  a  heart  to  do  the  work  He 
puts  in  your  way*,"  said  grandmamma. 

"  But,  grandmamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  how 
could  I  find  work  for  Him  in  school  ?  Miss 
Ashton  would  not  have  children  like  Lem  and 
Dolly  in  her  class." 

"  No,"  answered  Mrs.  Stanton.  "  The  chil- 
dren you  will  meet  there  are  all  probably 
more  or  less  well  taught ;  but  you  may  still 
find  something  to  do  for  Jesus.  But  the 
work  which  He  gives  us  is  not  always  that 
which  we  have  chosen  or  planned  for  our- 
selves. It  may  be  that  your  task  will  be  only 
that  of  which  you  have  just  spoken ;  to  learn 
your  lessons  well,  to  bo  obedient  and  respect 
ful  to  Miss  Ashtoii,  gentle  and  patient  with 
your  schoolmates  ;  yet  all  may  be  done  for  the 


30  Bessie  at  School. 

love  of  Jesus,  and  to  His  glory  and  praise. 
There  is  a  lovely  hymn  which  asks  that  one 
may  be  made  more  careful  to  please  God  per- 
fectly than  to  serve  Him  much.  That  means 
that  it  is  far  more  pleasing  to  Him  to  have  us 
take  up  cheerfully  and  gratefully  the  small 
duty  which  lies  straight  before  us,  than  it  is 
to  have .  us  pass  that  by  white  we  search  foi 
some  more  grand  task,  or  self-sacrifice,  which 
we  may  choose  to  think  is  His  work.  I  can 
tell  you  a  story  of  a  great  mistake  which  I 
made  in  that  way  once.  Would  you  like  to 
hear  it  ?  " 

The  children  both  assented  eagerly,  and 
settled  themselves  comfortably  to  listen  to 
grandmamma's  story. 


n. 

GRANDMAMMA'S  STORY. 

WAS  a  good  deal  older  than  eithe. 
of  you,"  said  Mrs.  Stanton,  "  when 
the  things  happened  of  which  I 
am  going  to  tell  you,  for  I  was  nearly  fourteen 
years  of  age  ;  but  still  the  story  may  interest 
and  be  of  use  to  you. 

"  Up  to  that  time,  I  had  always  been  taught 
at  home,  partly  by  a  governess  who  also 
taught  my  younger  sisters,  Emily  and  Bertha, 
partly  by  my  father,  who  was  a  man  fond  of 
study,  and  who  took  great  pleasure  in  teach- 
ing what  he  knew  to  others,  especially  his  own 
children.  I  was  a  scholar  after  his  own  heart, 
for  I  learned  easily  and  with  little  trouble  to 
myself  or  my  instructors ;  and  I  had  a  wonder- 
ful memory,  which  seldom  let  any  thing  slip 
which  I  had  once  heard  or  studied.  I  was 
very  proud  of  my  ready  memory,  forgetting 


32  Bessie  at  School. 

that  it  was  quite  as  much  a  gift  from  God  as 
beauty,  riches,  or  any  other  good  thing  which 
He  gives  to  His  creatures.  I  may  say,  now, 
that  I  was  really  very  forward  for  my  age ; 
and  my  father  and  mother  also  took  great 
pride  in  me,  particularly  the  former,  who 
was  anxious  to  show  off  my  learning  on  every 
occasion. 

"  A  great  many  gentlemen  used  to  visit  at 
our  house,  friends  of  my  father,  and  men 
who,  like  himself,  were  fond  of  hooks  and 
study ;  and  they  used  to  have  long  talks  on 
these  things.  Sometimes  they  would  differ 
about  a  name,  a  date,  or  some  fact;  and  often, 
at  such  times,  my  father  would  call  me,  and 
tell  me  to  settle  the  disputed  point.  I  could 
generally  answer  correctly,  and  then  our 
friends  would  go  on  asking  question  after 
question,  perhaps  to  find  out  how  much  I 
really  knew,  perhaps  only  to  amuse  them- 
selves with  my  vanity;  while  I,  encouraged 
by  my  father,  who  did  not  know  the  harm  he 
was  doing  me,  and  with  my  silly  little  head 


Grand  mamma's  Story.  33 

(juite  turned  by  the  praise  and  notice  I  re- 
seived,  was  only  too  glad  to  show  off  all  1 
knew.  Indeed,  I  was  quite  disappointed  when- 
ever any  of  these  friends  left  the  house,  and  ] 
had  not  been  called  upon  for  any  such  dis- 
play. 

"  When  I  was  nearly  fourteen  years  of  age, 
my  dear  mother  had  a  long  illness ;  and  as 
soon  as  she  was  able  to  travel,  the  doctors 
said  that  she  must  go  away  for  a  year  at 
least.  Emily  had  not  been  well  for  some 
time,  and  it  was  decided  that  she  was  to  go 
too ;  while  Bertie  and  I  were  to  be  sent  to 
boarding-school  during  their  absence.  That 
was  a  far  worse  trial  than  going  to  school  for 
two  or  three  hours  each  day,  knowing  that 
your  own  dear  mamma  is  here  for  you  to 
come  back  to :  was  it  not,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Maggie,  with  a  loving  glance 
through  the  open  door  at  her  sleeping  mother ; 
"  but  then,  grandmamma,  you  know  you  were 
such  a  big  girl ;  and,  I  suppose,  you  were  not 
shy,  either,  if  you  had  so  much  courage  to 
3 


34  Bessie  at  School. 

talk  to  the  grown  gentlemen.  Grandmamma, 
I  don't  think  you  can  know  how  uncomfortable 
it  is  for  a  child  to  be  shy.  Oh,  I  do  wish  I 
could  come  over  it." 

"  Overcome  it,  you  mean,"  said  grand- 
mamma. "  Well,  dear  Maggie,  do  you  know 
that  I  think  this  very  thing  which  you  dread 
so  much,  —  going  to  school,  —  may  help  you 
to  do  so.  And  it  would  be  a  good  thing  if  it 
were  so,  for  this  troublesome  shyness  not  only 
interferes  with  one's  own  pleasure  and  com- 
fort, but  often  with  one's  usefulness  to  others. 
But  to  go  on  with  my  story.  Great  girl 
though  T  was,  and  bolder,  perhaps,  than  be- 
came my  years,  the  parting  from  my  father 
and  mother  was  a  terrible  trial  to  me,  and  I 
shed  many  bitter  tears  over  it.  The  thing 
which  gave  me  most  comfort  was  the  thought 
of  all  I  would  do  while  they  were  gone,  and 
how  I  would  astonish  them  with  my  improve- 
ment on  their  return.  I  not  only  meant  to 
study  so  hard  that  I  should  put  myself  at  the 
head  of  all  my  classes  and  take  most,  if  not 


Grandmamma's  Story.  35 

»U,  of  the  prizes ;  but  I  also  begged  my  father 
to  write  out  a  list  of  books  of  history  and 
travels  which  I  might  read  during  my  play- 
hours,  and  asked  to  be  allowed  to  take  up  one 
or  two  extra  studies.  He  readily  agreed ;  but 
my  mother  shook  her  head,  and  said  if  my 
time  and  thoughts  were  to  be  so  taken  up 
with  my  books,  she  feared  I  would  not  give 
much  attention  to  little  Bertie. 

"  Bertie  was  mother's  great  anxiety  in  leav- 
ing home.  She  was  only  seven  years  old  ;  a 
timid,  clinging  child,  shrinking  from  strangers, 
and  always  wanting  to  be  petted  and  cuddled 
by  those  she  loved.  She  had  never  been  real- 
ly sick,  but  she  was  not  strong ;  and  mother 
gave  her  into  my  special  care  with  so  many 
charges  to  be  kind  and  tender  to  her,  that  I 
felt  impatient  and  half  vexed  that  she  should 
think  they  were  needed.  Alas !  she  knew  me 
better  than  I  knew  myself. 

"  Our  parents  had  secured  some  little  favors 
at  the  school  for  us,  among  others,  that  of  a 
room  to  ourselves ;  and  this  they  had  furnished 


36  Bessie  at  School. 

comfortably  and  prettily,  so  that  we  might 
have  been  very  contented  and  happy  there  to- 
gether, if  it  had  not  been  for  my  vanity  and 
selfishness ;  or,  perhaps  I  should  say,  the 
strange  mistakes  I  made  as  to  my  duty. 

"  For  the  first  day  or  two,  we  were  both  heart- 
broken, and  I  petted  Bertie  and  sorrowed  with 
her  ;  but  after  that,  I  turned  to  my  books  and 
had  no  time  or  thought  for  any  thing  else. 
True,  I  did  not  neglect  my  little  sister's  bodily 
comfort ;  every  morning  I  washed  and  dressed 
her  with  my  own  hands,  and  curled  her  long, 
fair  ringlets  ;  each  night  I  undressed  her  and 
tucked  her  in  her  bed  ;  nor  was  it  done  hasti- 
ly or  impatiently,  but  with  care  and  patience. 
But  while  I  was  at  my  task,  —  for  so  I  thought 
it,  —  of  tending  her,  my  book  lay  open  on  my 
lap,  and  I  learned  long  poems  or  lists  of  names 
and  dates,  and  poor  Bertie  was  never  suffered 
to  speak  to  me.  I  always  had  an  hour  to  my- 
self at  the  time  when  I  put  her  to  bed,  and  I 
might  have  spent  it  with  her,  had  I  chosen  to 
do  so.  But,  no ;  although  the  little  homesick 


Grandmamma  s  Story,  37 

child  used  to  beg  me  to  stay  with  her  and  talk 
of  mother,  I  was  always  in  haste  to  go  to  the 
books  which  father  had  marked  for  me.  Many 
a  time  when  I  went  up  to  bed,  I  found  her 
awake,  restless  and  nervous ;  or,  if  she  was 
sleeping,  her  pillow  and  face  were  wet  with 
tears.  During  play-hours,  she  used  to  hang 
about  me,  longing  for  love  and  comfort ;  but 
although  I  never  sent  her  from  me,  I  had  no 
time  to  give  her  the  petting  and  sympathy  she 
needed. 

"  Saturdays,  when  we  had  a  holiday,  and  Sun- 
days, were  no  better,  perhaps  rather  worse ; 
for  then  Bertie  was  more  lonely  and  homesick 
than  when  she  was  in  school,  and  I  was  just 
as  busy  as  on  other  days. 

"  On  Sunday  mornings  we  were  obliged  to 
go  to  church  and  Sunday  school ;  but  in  the 
afternoon,  we  were  allowed  to  do  as  we  pleased, 
provided  there  was  no  loud  laughing  or  talk- 
ing. It  was  my  pleasure  to  attend  a  Bible- 
class  held  by  the  clergyman  of  the  village, 
about  a  mile  off;  and  much  of  my  time  on 


38  Bessie  at  School. 

Saturday  was  taken  up  with  studying  the  !e» 
son  for  the  next  day.  I  knew  a  good  deal  of 
the  history  and  geography  of  the  Bible,  and 
2ould  repeat  many  a  chapter  and  verse  ;  but  to 
ts  lessons  of  humility,  unselfishness,  and  true 
ove  to  my  God  and  my  neighbor,  I  fear  I  paid 
tittle  heed. 

"  My  governess  rather  objected  to  my  attend- 
ing this  class,  which  was  intended  for  those 
who  were  much  older  than  myself;  for  she 
thought  I  was  doing  too  much,  and  not  taking 
time  enough  for  rest  and  play.  But,  since  she 
did  not  forbid  it,  I  shut  my  ears  to  her  advice 
and  took  my  own  way.  I  believe  I  honestly 
thought  I  was  doing  right,  too ;  that  I  was 
making  the  most  of  the  opportunities  God  had 
given  me,  trying  to  please  my  parents,  and  to 
do  my  duty.  And  these  things  were  all  right 
in  themselves ;  but  the  trouble  was,  I  did  not 
take  up  the  duty  which  lay  nearest  to  my  hand. 
I  neglected  the  simple,  easy  work  which  God 
had  put  in  my  way,  because  I  thought  it  was  a 
trifle.  You  see,  my  darlings,  I  would  not  stoop 


Grandmamma's  Story.  39 

to  pick  up  the  tiny  jewel  which  lay  at  mj-  feet, 
but  reached  out  for  that  which  was  more 
showy  and  glittering,  but  less  precious  in  His 
sight. 

u  We  had  been  at  school  about  four  months, 
when  one  Saturday  I  noticed  that  Bertie 
seemed  more  dull  and  languid  than  usual.  I 
did  not  wish  to  see  this,  but  I  could  not  shut 
my  eyes  to  it.  She  would  not  go  out  to  play 
with  the  other  children,  nor  would  she  amuse 
herself  in  the  house,  but  sat  listlessly  about, 
looking  pale  and  miserable. 

"  '  What  ails  you,  Bertie  ? '  I  asked  at  last : 
'  are  you  sick  ? ' 

" '  I  want  mother,'  she  answered,  with  a 
quivering  lip  and  eyes  filling  up  with  tears. 

"  '  Well,  four  months  have  gone  by,'  I  said, 
speaking  cheerfully,  but  carelessly. 

"  '  Four  months,'  the  child  repeated  sadly, 
'  and  that  leaves,'  —  she  counted  up  on  her 
fingers,  — '  that  leaves  eight  more,  Margy,  be- 
fore they  come  home.  Oh,  it  is  so  long ! ' 

"  '  If  you  love  father  and  mother  so  much, 


<|O  Bessie  at  School. 

I  said,  '  I  should  think  you  would  try  to  do 
what  would  please  them.' 

"  '  So  I  do,'  said  my  little  sister,  with  the 
great  tears  now  rolling  down  her  cheeks: 
'  mother  told  me  to  be  good  and  mind  you  and 
my  teachers,  and  I  have.  Mrs.  Horton  told 
me  yesterday,  I  was  the  best  little  girl  in  the 
school,  and  gave  her  no  trouble,  and  that  she 
would  write,  and  tell  mother  so.' 

"  '  Oh,  yes  ! '  I  said,  '  you  are  certainly  a 
very  good  child ;  but  you  might  improve  more 
if  you  chose,  Bertie.' 

" '  I  don't  want  to  improve,'  said  Bertie  : 
'  people  are  not  half  so  nice  when  they  im- 
prove.' 

" '  You  do  not  understand  what  you  arc 
talking  about,'  said  I,  half  laughing,  half 
vexed :  *  people  must  be  nicer  when  they  im- 
prove, because  it  means  to  become  wiser  and 
better.' 

"  '  Oh ! '  said  Bertie,  with  a  disapproving 
look  at  my  pile  of  books,  *  I  thought  it  meant 
to  study  a  great  deal.' 


Grandmamma's  Story.  41 

" l  You  foolish  child  ! '  I  answered  rather 
sharply,  '  there  are  a  great  many  ways  in 
which  people  may  improve  themselves.  God 
gives  one  kind  of  work  to  one,  and  another 
kind  to  another ;  and  the  way  to  please  Him, 
and  to  improve  ourselves,  is  to  do  what  He 
gives  us  with  all  our  might.' 

•"  '  And  has  not  God  given  you  any  work  to 
do  but  studying  all  the  time  ?  '  asked  Bertie. 

"  *  Of  course  not,'  I  answered,  '  or  I  should 
do  it.  When  our  parents  placed  us  in  this 
expensive  school,  they  meant  us  to  make  the 
most  of  our  time  and  the  advantages  they  had 
given  us  ;  so  that  is  our  duty  both  to  them  and 
to  God.' 

"  I  thought  myself  very  wise  and  impor- 
tant while  making  these  grand  speeches  to  my 
little  sister,  but  they  did  not  seem  to  satisfy 
her. 

" '  But  don't  we  have  a  duty  to  each  other, 
Margy  ?  '  she  said. 

" '  Certainly,',  I  answered  ;  *  but  I  would 
like  to  know  what  you  would  be  at.  I  suppose 


42  Bessie  at  School. 

it  is  I  you  mean,  when  you  say  people  are  not 
nice  who  study  a  good  deal ;  and  I  do  not  see 
where  I  have  not  done  my  duty  to  you.  Don't 
I  take  all  the  care  of  you  ? ' 

"  *  Yes,'  said  Bertie,  slowly ;  '  but,  Margy, 
you  never  pet  me,  or  tell  me  stories,  or  sing  to 
me,  as  you  used  to,  and  I  would  like  it  now 
more  than  I  did  then.' 

"  *  So  would  I  like  it,'  I  said, '  but  that  would 
be  play,  not  work,  and  I  have  not  time  for 
such  nonsense.  You  must  not  think  I  do  not 
love  you  just  as  much ;  and  don't  talk  any 
more,  I  have  wasted  too  much  time  already.' 

"  Bertie  obeyed  and  was  silent,  leaning  her 
head  against  the  window-frame  with  a  sad, 
weary  air,  while  I  turned  over  the  leaves  of  my 
Bible  in  search  of  a  verse  I  wanted  ;  but  1 
could  not  fix  my  attention.  Bertie's  words 
had  made  me  feel  very  uncomfortable,  and 
brought  back  my  mother's  last  charge  to  me, 
( Margaret  dear,  take  care  of  my  baby,  and  do 
not  let  her  want  for  any  comfort  or  tenderness 
that  you  can  give  her.' 


Grandmamma's  Story.  43 

"  Had  I  given  Bertie  all  the  love  and  tender* 
ness  in  my  power?  Had  I  done  the  work 
which  my  mother,  aye,  and  my  God,  too, 
had  put  into  my  hands,  —  the  work  that 
should  have  been  done  before  I  took  up  any 
other  ? 

"  These  thoughts  now  troubled  me  so,  that 
I  could  scarcely  study  ;  but  I  tried  to  put  them 
from  me,  saying  to  myself  that  I  would  give 
Bertie  a  good  petting  and  tell  her  a  long  story 
on  the  next  afternoon,  after  my  return  from 
Bible-class. 

"  But  the  next  morning  I  thought  I  had 
found  a  new  piece  of  work  which  it  was  my 
duty  to  perform.  My  Sabbath-school  teacher 
told  the  class  of  a  poor  family,  living  some  dis- 
tance beyond  the  village,  who  were  in  the  great- 
est need,  and  asked  if  some  among  us  could 
not  spare  a  little  to  help  them.  I  at  once  took 
it  up,  saying  that  I  would  go  round  among  the 
girls  in  our  school,  and  see  what  I  could  col- 
lect. This  I  did,  as  soon  as  I  reached  home  ; 
and,  each  of  the  teachers  and  scholars  giving 


44  Bessie  at  School. 

more  or  less,  I  soon  had  a  nice  sum  in  my 
hands.  I  asked,  and  obtained  permission,  to 
go  with  one  of  my  schoolmates  and  take  this 
to  the  suffering  family,  after  the  dismissal  of 
the  afternoon  Bible-class  ;  and  as  I  sat  upon 
the  piazza,  counting  over  the  money,!  said  that 
T  intended  to  do  so. 

"  Bertie  sat  at  my  feet,  leaning  her  head 
against  my  knees.  She  had  not  been  to  church 
or  Sunday  school  that  morning,  for  she  seemed 
so  languid  that  Mrs.  Horton  had  proposed  she 
should  stay  at  home. 

" '  0  Margy ! '  she  said,  looking  up  at  me 
with  pleading  eyes, '  then  you  will  be  away  all 
the  afternoon.  It  is  such  a  long  walk  over  to 
Cuddy's  Hollow !  and  if  you  go  there  after  Bi- 
ble class,  you  will  not  be  home  till  tea-time. 
I  do  want  you  so !  couldn't  some  one  else  take 
it,  and  wouldn't  you  stay  with  me  just  this 
one  Sunday  ? ' 

"  '  Impossible,  Bertie,'  I  said :  '  I  have  not 
missed  one  Bible-class  since  we  came  to  school, 
and  hope  not  to  during  the  year  •  aod  you  sur* 


Grandmamma's  Story.  45 

ly  would  not  have  these  poor  people  suffering 
another  twenty-four  hours  when  here  is  the 
money  ready  for  them  ? ' 

"  '  No,'  said  Bertie  ;  '  but  I  thought  some 
one  else  could  go.  I  believe  I  don't  feel  very 
well,  Margy ;  and  I  want  you  to  talk  about 
mother.  Oh,  Margy !  do  stay.' 

" '  Miss  Ruthven,'  said  one  of  my  school- 
mates, a  new  scholar  who  stood  by,  '  I  intend- 
ed to  join  the  Bible-class  this  afternoon  ;  and 
if  you  would  like  to  stay  with  your  little  sister, 
I  will  gladly  go  with  Miss  Oliver  to  carry  the 
money.' 

"  Now,  my  conscience  not  being  quite  at 
rest  for  refusing  Bertie's  request,  I  immedi- 
ately imagined  that  this  young  lady  meant 
to  reprove  or  dictate  to  me ;  and  I  answered 
stiffly,  — 

" '  Thank  you,  Miss  Hart,  but  I  prefer  to 
attend  to  it  myself.  When  one  has  undertaken 
a  plain  duty,  one  should  not  give  it  up  for  one's 
own  pleasure.' 

"  '  Yes,'  said  Miss  Hart,  quietly ; '  but  should 


46  Bessie  at  School* 

we  not  be  very  sure  that  we  see  clearly  what 
is  our  duty,  and  what  our  pleasure  ?  ' 

"  I  took  no  notice  of  this,  but  turned  to  Ber- 
tie with, — 

" '  You  said  a  little  while  ago,  Bertie,  that 
you  were  so  sorry  for  these  poor  people.  If 
we  really  care  for  others  and  want  to  help 
them,  we  must  sometimes  give  up  our  own 
comfort  and  convenience.' 

" '  You  don't  care  for  me,  or  want  to  help 
me  a  bit,'  said  Bertie,  passionately  ;  '  and  I 
am  going  to  write  and  ask  mother  if  I  can't 
come  to  her,  even  if  I  do  have  to  sail  off  in  a 
ship  .J1  alone  by  myself; '  and  then  she  broke 
out  in  tears  and  sobs. 

" '  You  know  that  is  not  true,  and  you  are 
wrong  and  selfish,  Bertie,'  I  said.  '  I  must  go 
now,  but  be  a  good  girl  and  stop  crying,  and 
I  will  talk  to  you  about  mother,  and  tell  you  a 
nice  story  when  I  come  home ; '  and  giving 
her  a  hasty  kiss,  I  ran  down  the  steps  and 
joined  the  group  who  were  about  starting  for 
the  church. 


Grandmamma's  Story.  -  47 

"  *  Are  you  not  going  with  us,  Miss  Hart?' 
aaid  the  teacher  who  was  to  accompany  us. 

"  '  I  think  not,"  she  answered. 

"  '  You  had  better  come,'  I  said,  not  wishing 
she  should  think  me  unamiable  :  '  you  have 
no  idea  how  interesting  these  classes  are,  and 
how  much  one  may  learn.' 

"  '  Another  afternoon,'  she  said,  with  a  pleas- 
ant smile  :  '  to-day  T  will  remain  at  home.' 

"  We  started  OL.  our  way,  but  I  was  very 
uneasy.  The  words, '  You  do  not  care  for  me, 
or  want  to  help  me,'  mingling  with,  '  Do  not 
let  my  baby  want  for  any  care  or  tenderness 
you  can  give  her,'  kept  ringing  in  my  ears ; 
and  my  mother's  eyes  —  how  like  Bertie's  were 
to  them  !  —  seemed  looking  into  mine,  as  she 
pleaded  for  her  little  pet  lamb.  I  came  on 
slowly  after  the  others,  trying  to  make  up  my 
mind  that  it  was  not  my  duty  to  go  back  and 
stay  with  Bertie.  Once  I  turned,  and  looked 
behind  to  see  Mary  Hart  in  the  seat  I  had  left, 
Bertie  upon  her  lap,  the  child's  arms  about 
her  neck,  while  she  tenderly  smoothed  her 


48  Bessie  at  School. 

lovely  hair.     A  stranger  was  giving  to  my  sis- 
ter the  petting  and  soothing  for  which  she  had 
longed,  and  which  I  had  denied  to  her. 
"  Then  came  the  voice  of  the  teacher,  — 
"  *  Margaret    Ruthven,   why   do    you    not 
come  ?     If  you  want  to  stay  with  your  sister, 
go  back  ;  if  not,  do  not  keep  us  waiting.' 

"  I  followed  the  rest,  but  my  thoughts  were 
all  in  confusion  that  afternoon.  I  was  angry 
with  Bertie,  with  Mary  Hart,  with  the  teacher, 
with  every  one  but  myself,  who  alone  was  to 
blame.  I  could  not  fix  my  attention  on  the 
lesson,  or  put  the  questions  and  give  the  an- 
swers with  which  I  was  generally  so  ready ; 
and  I  was  glad  when  we  were  dismissed.  Still, 
this  did  not  prevent  me  from  joining  Miss  Oli- 
ver and  our  Sunday-school  teacher  when  they 
went  to  Cuddy's  Hollow.  It  was  a  long  walk  ; 
and  so  much  time  was  taken  up  in  making 
arrangements  for  the  comfort  of  the  poor 
family,  that  it  was  late  before  we  started 
for  home,  —  so  late  that,  on  our  way  through 
the  village.  Miss  Henry  stopped  at  her  own 


Grandmammas  Story,  49 

house  for  her  father,  and  both  saw  us  safely 
home. 

"We  had  been  gone  five  or  six  hours,  and 
as  I  entered  the  hall-door,  some  of  the  younger 
children  met  me. 

"<O  Miss  Buthven!  Bertie  is  so  sick! 
She  went  to  sleep  in  Miss  Hart's  lap  this  after- 
noon, and  when  she  woke  up,  she  did  not  know 
any  one ;  and  the  doctor  is  here,  and  she  is  so 
sick.' 

"In  an  instant,  I  had  flown  up  the  stairs, 
and  was  on  my  knees  beside  Bertie's  bed. 
There  she  lay,  her  head  rolling  from  side  to 
side,  her  little  hot  hands  tossing  restlessly  to 
and  fro.  She  did  not  know  me;  and  she 
moaned,  and  called  for  mother,  saying  that 
'  she  was  all  alone,  all  alone.' 

"Ah!  my  neglected  work  rose  up  plainly 
before  me  then,  —  the  simple,  easy  work  of  love 
which  God  had  put  ready  to  my  hands,  but 
from  which  I  had  coldly  turned  away  in  search 
of  something  which  I  thought  nobler  and  bet- 
ter. Would  my  parents  care,  though  I  gained 
4 


50  Bessie  at  School. 

every  prize  in  the  school,  if  they  came  home 
to  find  their  darling  gone,  and  learned  that 
her  last  days  had  been  made  unhappy  by  want 
of  love  and  care  ?  Bessie,  do  not  look  so  dis- 
tressed, love.  Bertie  did  not  die,  though  for 
three  weeks  all  thought  that  it  must  end  so. 
Probably  all  the  care  and  tenderness  in  the 
world  would  not  have  kept  off  that  terrible 
illness,  but  my  remorse  and  misery  were  as 
great  as  though  it  had  all  been  my  doing.  I 
would  not  leave  her  day  or  night,  and  it  was 
only  by  the  command  of  my  governess  that  I 
took  any  rest.  At  last  a  change  came,  and 
Bertie  was  out  of  danger :  but  she  was  fretful 
and  nervous,  and  could  not  bear  me  out  of  her 
sight ;  while  I  felt  that  I  could  not  do  enough 
to  make  up  for  the  past,  and  devoted  my  whole 
time  to  her. 

"  *  Margy,'  she  said  one  day,  as  I  sat  beside 
her,  telling  stories  for  her  pleasure, '  I  am  glad 
you  don't  improve  any  more.  You  are  just 
like  my  old  Margy.' 

"  So  the  long  summer  days  passed  away, 


Grandmamma's  Story.  51 

and  the  exhibition,  where  I  had  so  hoped  to 
excel  all  my  schoolmates,  was  drawing  near ; 
and  I  stood,  for  absence,  at  the  very  foot  of 
all  my  classes.  Still  I  hoped  to  make  up  for 
lost  time.  Whenever  Bertie  slept,  I  took  my 
books,  and  did  my  best  to  keep  up  with  my 
class.  A  night-lamp  was  burned  in  our  room ; 
and  after  the  rest  of  the  house  was  safely  in 
bed,  I  used  to  rise  and  study  by  its  faint  light, 
then  take  a  few  hours  of  sleep,  and  be  up  with 
the  first  streak  of  day,  spending  many  an  hour 
over  my  lessons  when  I  should  have  been  at 
rest.  In  this  way,  I  hoped  to  recover  what  I 
had  lost,  and  be  able  to  take  my  old  place  by 
the  time  Bertie  was  well.  But  again  I  found 
that  God  had  other  work  for  me  than  that 
which  I  had  laid  out  for  myself. 

"  For  some  days  I  had  felt  a  great  deal  of 
pain  in  my  head,  and  a  burning  and  throbbing 
in  my  eyes,  which  might  have  told  me  that  I 
was  doing  myself  harm ;  but  I  would  not  yet 
heed  the  warning,  or  speak  of  it  to  any  one, 
lest  I  should  be  forbidden  to  pore  over  my 


52  Bessie  at  School. 

books.  But  now  it  could  not  longer  be 
hidden.  I  woke  one  morning  in  such  agony, 
an£  with  such  a  dimness  over  my  sight,  that, 
though  Bertie  was  still  weak,  I  was  obliged  to 
call  her,  and  send  PT  v^n.  My  governess 
came,  and  then  the  doctor;  and,  though  I 
could  not  see  his  face,  the  grave  tones  of  the 
latter,  and  the  directions  he  gave,  told  me 
that  it  was  a  very  serious  matter. 

"  And  so,  indeed,  it  proved.  Day  after  day, 
and  week  after  week,  I  lay  in  a  darkened 
room,  suffering  terribly,  and  in  danger  of 
losing  my  sight  for  ever.  The  exhibition  was 
over,  the  long  vacation  gone  by,  before  I  was 
about  again,  and  the  poor  eyes,  which  had 
been  so  sorely  tried,  were  able  to  bear  the 
light.  And  there  was  worse,  or  what  I 
thought  was  worse,  still  to  come.  My  own 
sense,  as  well  as  the  doctor's  orders,  told  me 
plainly  that  all  use  of  my  eyes  must  be  forbid 
den  for  some  time.  '  How  long  ? '  I  asked  the 
doctor. 

"  '  For  months,  perhaps  years,'  he  answered 
bluntly. 


Grandmamma's  Story.  53 

"  You  may  think  what  a  blow  this  was  to 
me ;  but  after  my  first  sorrow  had  passed 
away,  I  amused  myself  by  forming  new  plans. 
If  I  could  not  distinguish  myself  in  one  way, 
I  would  in  another.  I  would  do  so  much  for 
other  people,  that  every  one  would  love  and 
honor  me.  I  had  plenty  of  money,  for  my 
father  gave  me  a  large  allowance ;  and  I  would 
look  after  the  wants,  not  only  of  the  poor 
family  of  whom  I  have  before  spoken,  but  of 
many  more  down  in  the  village.  They  were 
a  miserable,  neglected  set,  there  ;  but  I  would 
alter  all  that.  I  would  spend  my  savings  for 
them,  and  show  them  how  to  be  neat  and  com 
Portable :  with  my  governess's  leave,  I  would 
gather  the  children  together,  and  teach  them 
all  I  could  without  the  use  of  my  eyes  ;  and  I 
did  not  doubt,  that,  in  a  short  time,  I  should 
work  a  change  that  would  surprise  and  delight 
all  who  saw  it,  and  be  greatly  to  my  own 
credit  and  glory. 

"  Ah !  there  was  the  trouble.  I  thought  I 
would  serve  my  Master,  and  let  my 


54  Bessie  at  School. 

works  be  '  seen  of  men ; '  but  I  fear  it  was 
to  glorify  myself,  not  Him,  and  so  He  did  not 
will  that  my  little  light  should  fall  upon  the 
path  which  I  had  chosen  for  myself. 

"All  these  plans  and  purposes  came  (o 
nothing,  as  my  former  ones  had  done.  I 
was  not  only  forbidden  to  read,  write,  or 
study,  but  also  to  fatigue  or  exert  myself  in 
any  way ;  and,  indeed,  I  soon  found  that  this 
was  necessary.  Walking  to  the  village  was 
not  to  be  thought  of.  One  quarter  of  the  dis- 
tance brought  on  the  old,  terrible  pain,  and 
I  was  forced  into  quiet  by  the  dread  of  blind 
ness. 

"  So  I  was  to  be  laid  aside  as  useless,  I 
thought ;  and  I  fretted  myself,  and  others,  till 
those  about  me  had  good  reason  to  think  that 
the  work  I  had  now  chosen  was  to  make  my 
self  as  disagreeable  as  possible.  It  was  in 
vain  that  my  governess  told  me  how  wrong 
and  sinful  I  was ;  I  could  listen  to  nothing 
but  the  munnurings  of  my  own  discontent 
and  disappointment,  and  refused  to  look  at 


Grandmamma's  Story.  55 

the  blessings  which  God  had  left  me,  or  to 
learn  the  lesson  He  was  trying  to  teach 
me. 

"Thus  the  rest  of  the  year  passed  away, 
and  my  parents  came  home,  to  find  me,  not 
the  proud,  triumphant  scholar  I  had  hoped  to 
be,  nor  yet  the  beloved  and  useful  benefactor 
who  had  gained  praise  and  gratitude  from  all 
who  knew  her ;  but  a  restless,  moping,  fretful 
invalid,  —  a  burden  to  herself  and  all  around 
her." 

"  But,  grandmamma,"  said  Maggie,  as  Mrs. 
Stanton  paused  for  a  moment,  "  you  did  not 
tell  us  what  work  it  was  God  had  left  for 
you." 

"To  learn  a  lesson  of  patience,  humility, 
and  submission  to  His  will,  Maggie ;  lessons 
which  I  was  long  in  taking  to  heart,  and  which 
I  had  sadly  needed.  It  was  long  years  before 
my  health  and  the  use  of  my  eyes  came  back 
to  me ;  not  till  I  had  learned  to  be  contented 
with  the  simple  every-day  duties  which  God 
had  meant  should  be  my  lot  in  life.  What  I 


56  Bessie  at  School. 

wished,  -was  to  do  great  things  and  serve  my 
God  and  my  fellow-creatures  in  a  way  tha4; 
should  be  *  seen  and  known  of  men ; '  but 
our  Father  knew  that  this  would  not  be  good 
for  me  ;  that  the  pride  and  vain  glory,  which 
were  my  chief  faults,  would  only  be  strength- 
ened and  made  worse  if  He  allowed  me  to  go 
on  in  the  paths  I  had  chosen.  I  can  see  this 
now  for  myself,  and  bless  Him  that  He  put 
out  His  hand  and  led  me  by  the  quiet  ways 
where  I  have  learned  to  find  all  my  duties 
and  my  happiness.  But,  look !  There  is  dear 
mamma  awake,  and  the  duty  I  see  plainly  be 
fore  us  now,  is  to  go  and  give  her  some  beef- 
tea  and  jelly,  which  I  think  she  needs." 


m.  ••" 

SCHOOL. 

|UT,  grandmamma,"  said  Maggie, 
when  her  mother  had  been  bol- 
stered up,  and  was  enjoying  her 
nice  soup,  "  I  do  not  think  waiting  on  mamma 
is  a  bit  of  a  duty ;  I  think  it  is  a  great,  great 
pleasure." 

"So  do  I,  Maggie ;  but  a  pleasure  may  be  a 
duty :  may  it  not  ?  " 

Maggie  looked  doubtful. 

"  I  don't  quite  see  how,  grandmamma.  I 
thought  a  duty  was  something  one  ought  to  do, 
but  did  not  quite  want  to  do,  —  like  forgiving 
people  when  they  are  unkind  to  us,  or  putting 
away  my  playthings  when  I  would  rather 
leave  them ;  or  —  or  —  trying  to  have  a  cheer- 
ful mind  about  going  to  school,  'cause  it's 
a  help  to  mamma;"  and  Maggie  smiled  a 
wistful,  half-tearful  little  smile,  which  went 


58  Bessie  at  School. 

straight  to  the  hearts  of  her  mother  and 
grandmother. 

"  But  even  a  disagreeable  duty  may  bring 
its  own  pleasure  and  satisfaction  with  it, 
darling,  if  we  only  go  about  it  in  the  right 
way,"  said  Mrs.  Stanton  ;  "  and  there  is  many 
a  pleasant  thing  that  is  also  a  duty.  You  say 
you  love  to  wait  on  your  mother ;  but  suppose 
you  did  not  like  it,  would  it  be  right  for  you 
to  refuse  to  do  what  you  could  for  her  ?  " 

*'•  No,  indeed,"  answered  Maggie,  promptly. 

"  Mamma  seems  to  like  that  jelly  pretty 
well,"  said  grandmamma ;  "  but  is  there  no 
other  reason  why  she  should  take  it  ? " 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie,  "  because  the  doctor 
said  she  must  eat  every  thing  that  would  make 
her  strong  and  well." 

"  So,  then,  you  see  a  pleasant  thing  may  be 
as  much  a  duty  as  a  disagreeable  one.  Right 
is  right,  wrong  is  wrong,  and  duty  is  duty ; 
and  we  cannot  alter  that,  however  it  may 
affect  ourselves.  Only  we  must  try,  as  I 
meant  my  story  to  show  you,  to  do  first  the 


School.  59 

duty  that  is  plainest,  and  which  lies  nearest 
to  our  hand,  for  that  is  God's  work,  and  the 
thing  He  means  us  to  do." 

Bessie  had  been  listening  very  thought- 
fully to  all  that  passed,  and  now  she  said 
gravely,  — 

"  Grandmamma,  I  s'pose  you  mean  me  to 
take  a  lesson  of  your  story,  and  to  understand 
that  if  it  is  Maggie's  duty  to  go  to  school  and 
study,  it  is  mine  to  stay  at  home  and  not 
study  much,  'cause  mamma  wishes  it.  So 
one  way  is  her  duty,  and  another  way  is  my 
duty." 

"I  did  not  mean  the  story  more  for  one 
than  for  the  other,"  said  Mrs.  Stanton,  smil- 
ing ;  "  but  I  am  glad  you  want  to  learn  some- 
thing from  it,  dear ;  and  I  think  you  are  right 
in  saying  that  your  duty  lies  in  one  way,  and 
Maggie's  in  another.  See  who  is  knocking  at 
the  door,  Maggie." 

It  was  Patrick  to  say  Miss  Ashton  was 
below;  and  he  was  told  to  ask  her  to  walk 
up,  while  the  children  were  sent  from  the 


bo  Bessie  at  School. 

room,  that  mamma  might  be  at  liberty  fco 
talk  to  her. 

Miss  Ashton  did  not  stay  very  long;  but  it 
seemed  to  Maggie  and  Bessie  an  age,  as  they 
sat  upon  a  hall  chair,  and  waited  for  her  to 
come  from  mamma's  room ;  so  that,  as  Maggie 
said,  "  They  might  see  if  her  look  had  any 
good  news  for  them." 

Not  only  her  looks,  but  her  pleasant  voice 
also  brought  good  news  to  them ;  for,  as  sho 
met  the  two  wistful  faces  which  gazed  up  into 
hers,  she  stopped  and  said,  smiling,  "  So  I 
am  to  have  two  dear  little  scholars  from  here, 
instead  of  one,  if  your  papa  will  consent." 

Instantly  every  corner  of  Maggie's  face 
brightened  into  smiles  and  dimples ;  while 
Bessie,  slipping  off  the  chair,  seized  upon  Miss 
Ashton's  hand.. 

"  Oh !  could  you,  Miss  Ashton  ?  could  you, 
really?"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Could  I  what  ?  Agree  to  take  a  loving 
little  girl  with  her  sister,  and  teach  her  just  as 
much  as  her  mother  thinks  it  best  for  her  to 


School.  61 

learn  ?  Well,  I  think  I  shall  try  and  see  how 
it  will  work." 

At  this  Maggie  too  came  down  from  the 
chair,  and  took  Miss  Ashton's  other  hand. 

"  I  am  so  very  much  obliged  to  you,  ma'am," 
she  said,  too  much  delighted  to  remember  that 
the  lady  was  almost  a  stranger  to  her. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  you  can't  know  how 
very  much  we  thank  you,  'cause  you  don't 
know  how  much  accustomed  Maggie  and  I  are 
to  each  other." 

"  And  I  hope  you  will  soon  both  become  ac- 
customed to  me,  and  learn  to  love  me,"  said 
Miss  Ashton  ;  and  then  she  kissed  them,  and 
telling  them  she  hoped  to  see  them  at  school 
on  the  next  Monday,  she  went  away ;  and  the 
children  ran  back  to  their  mother's  room  to 
make  very  sure  that  the  good  news  was  true. 

"  Yes,"  mamma  said,  "  it  had  all  been  ar- 
ranged." Miss  Ashton  was  very  kind,  and 
said  she  would  give  Bessie  lessons  by  herself, 
If  she  were  not  able  to  keep  up  with  the  rest 
of  the  class,  and  she  might  amuse  herself  qui« 


62  Bessie  at  School. 

etly  during  the  rest  of  the  time ;  and  nothing 
now  remained  but  to  hear  what  papa  thought 
of  this  new  plan.  Only  one  promise  mamma 
said  she  would  require ;  and  that  was,  that 
when  the  weather  was  such  that  she  did  not 
think  it  best  for  Bessie  to  go  out,  Maggie 
should  go  alone  cheerfully.  Maggie  readily 
agreed,  and  when  papa  came  home  and  said, 
since  mamma  and  Miss  Ashton  thought  it 
would  do,  he  should  make  no  objection,  the 
two  little  sisters  were  so  happy  in  the  ar- 
rangement which  kept  them  together,  that 
even  Maggie  had  no  room  for  dread  of  the 
new  school  and  new  faces. 

So  on  the  next  Monday  morning,  there  were 
two  serious,  but  not  sad,  little  damsels  who 
stood  one  on  each  side  of  mamma,  ready  hatted 
and  cloaked,  waiting  till  papa  should  give  the 
word  to  start  for  school.  Serious,  for  this  was 
a  grave  and  important  matter  to  them  ;  quite 
a  new  step  in  life,  and  to  Maggie  a  very  trying 
one.  Still,  Bessie  was  with  her,  so  she  could 
bear  it. 


School.  63 

Mr.  Bradford  gave  the  word,  and  their 
mother  was  hugged  and  kissed,  as  though  the 
parting  were  to  be  for  a  month,  instead  of  three 
hours,  and  they  went  away.  Mamma  had  bidden 
them  good-by  very  cheerily,  and  it  was  as  well 
they  did  not  see  the  tear  or  two  that  rolled 
down  her  pale  cheek,  or  how  sorrowfully  she 
looked  after  them,  as  she  thought  how  she 
should  miss  their  sweet  company  during  those 
morning  hours  when  they  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  be  with  her.  But  she  knew  it  was 
best ;  and  so,  after  the  way  of  dear  mammas, 
would  not  let  them  see  her  own  regret,  lest  it 
should  add  to  their  trouble. 

Mrs.  and  Miss  Ashton  lived  but  a  short  dis- 
tance from  Mrs.  Bradford,  and  in  a  curious, 
old-fashioned  house  that  was  very  different 
from  most  city  houses.  It  was  only  two  sto- 
ries high,  but  very  wide  and  deep,  and  away 
at  the  back  stretched  a  garden  as  old-fashioned 
as  the  house,  with  stiif  box  hedges,  gravel 
walks  bordered  with  white  pebbles,  a  fountain 
in  the  centre,  and  at  the  farther  end  two  old 


64  Bessie  at  School. 

summer-houses  covered  with  grape-vines.  The 
two  sides  which  bordered  on  the  street  were 
guarded  by  a  high  picket-fence,  the  third  by  a 
low  stone  wall  beyond  which  were  half  a  doz- 
en vacant  lots ;  while  on  the  opposite  corner, 
at  right  angles  with  Miss  Ashton's  house,  lived 
Mr.  Peters,  who  kept  the  school  which  Harry 
and  Fred  attended,  and  his  boys  were  accus- 
tomed to  use  these  lots  as  their  ball-ground. 

Maggie  and  Bessie  thought  it  a  very  re- 
markable and  pleasant  circumstance  that  these 
two  houses,  standing  thus  by  themselves  on  one 
square,  should  be  occupied  by  the  two  schools, 
and  it  gave  them  a  more  homelike  feeling  to 
know  that  their  brothers  were  so  near. 

Mr.  Bradford  asked  for  Miss  Ashton,  and 
when  the  young  lady  came  down,  he  said  a  few 
words  to  her,  and  then  kissing  his  two  little 
daughters  left  them  in  her  care.  Miss  Ashton 
talked  very  pleasantly  and  kindly  to  them  as 
she  led  them  upstairs,  followed  by  Jane,  who 
had  also  come  to  take  off  the  children's  hats 
and  cloaks ;  but  they  both  felt  very  homesick 


School.  65 

as  papa  walked  away,  and  had  no  heart  to  an- 
swer her.  It  seemed  worse  still  when  their 
walking-things  were  taken  off,  and  Jane  went, 
looking  very  unwilling  to  leave  them.  Maggie's 
eyes  were  full  of  tears,  and  Bessie  only  kept 
hers  back  by  the  help  of  a  feeling  that  she 
was  there  to  be  a  comfort  to  her  sister,  and  so 
must  not  give  way. 

But  things  appeared  brighter  when  Miss 
Ashton  took  them  into  the  large,  pleasant 
front  room  where  the  rest  of  the  class  were 
assembled.  Here  were  seven  little  girls,  and 
among  them  were  Lily  Norris,  Gracie  Howard, 
and  Nellie  and  Carrie  Ransom,  all  looking 
very  happy,  and  very  much  pleased  to  see 
Maggie  and  Bessie,  and  not  at  all  as  though 
school  were  a  thing  to  be  dreaded. 

Place  was  soon  found  for  the  two  sisters, 
and  they  were  seated  together,  with  Lily  on 
Maggie's  other  side,  and  Gracie  by  Bessie. 
Next  came  the  Ransoms.  All  these  six  were 
well  acquainted  and  were  glad  to  meet ;  but 
the  three  on  the  other  side  of  the  room  were 
6 


66  Bessie  at  School. 

strangers  to  them  and  to  one  another,  and 
looked  shy  and  uncomfortable,  and  Bessie,  as 
she  talked  with  her  young  friends,  felt  sorry 
for  them,  and  thought  she  would  speak  to 
them,  if  she  only  knew  their  names  and  what 
to  say. 

Presently  Miss  Ashton,  who  had  left  the- 
room,  came  back  with  another  child,  and  this 
one  made  the  number  of  the  class  ten.  The 
last  comer  was  a  pale,  sad-eyed,  little  girl, 
dressed  in  deep  mourning ;  and  she,  too,  was  a 
stranger  to  all  the  others. 

"  Now,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  "  I  shall  leave 
you  for  ten  minutes  to  become  acquainted. 
Then  my  mother  will  come,  and  we  will  open 
school." 

"  But,  Miss  Ashton,"  said  Bessie,  as  the 
lady  turned  to  go. 

"  Well,  dear." 

•Bessie  hesitated  for  a  moment,  for  she 
thought  perhaps  Miss  Ashton  would  think  she 
was  taking  a  liberty ;  but  when  she  saw  with 
what  a  kind  smile  she  looked  at  her,  she  made 


School.  67 

up  her  mind  to  speak  She  did  so,  not  bold- 
ly, but  with  an  outspoken,  yet  modest  little 
way,  that  was  all  her  own. 

"  You  see  we  don't  know  each  other's 
names,"  she  said ;  "  and  I  thought  if  you  was 
to  in-tro-duce  us,  maybe  we  could  be  ac- 
quainted sooner." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  smiling. 
"  Thank  you  for  reminding  me,  Bessie.  I 
did  not  think  the  first  lesson  taught  here  this 
morning  would  be  one  of  politeness,  to  be 
learned  by  myself." 

"  Oh,  Miss  Ashton !  "  said  Bessie,  "  I  would 
not  be  so  saucy  as  to  say  you  were  not  polite. 
I  only  thought  perhaps  you  forgot." 

"  And  so  I  did,  dear ;  but  true  politeness 
should  teach  us  to  remember  all  those  little 
things  which  may  make  others  comfortable, 
or  put  them  at  their  ease;  and  I  am  afraid 
we  grown  people  often  forget  that  children 
need  such  attentions  as  well  as  those  who  are 
older." 

Then  she  introduced  them  all  to  one  another, 
«nd  went  away. 


68  Bessie  at  School. 

The  four  whose  names  were  new,  were  Bello 
Powers,  Dora  Johnson,  Laura  Middleton,  and 
Fanny  Leroy.  Belle  was  the  little  girl  in 
black,  who  looked  so  sad. 

"  Have  any  of  you  looked  what  is  in  your 
desks  ?  "  asked  Nellie  Ransom,  by  way  of  be- 
ginning a  conversation.  "  Carrie  and  I  were 
the  first  here,  and  Miss  Ashton  showed  us. 
There's  a  slate,  and  a  spelling-book,  and  a 
drawing-book,  and  a  geography,  and  lots  of 
things.  Lift  up  the  covers  and  look.  She'll 
let  you." 

No  sooner  said  than  done.  Ten  low  desks 
were  ranged  around  the  room,  each  with  a 
chair  of  suitable  size  before  it ;  and  one  had 
been  given  to  each  child.  Every  lid,  but  one, 
was  raised  at  Nellie's  word's,  and  little  heads 
were  popped  within  to  discover  what  lay  hidden 
there.  This  gave  food  enough  for  talk  ;  even 
Maggie  had  something  to  say ;  only  one  tongue 
was  silent,  and  that  was  Belle's. 

"  I  guess  that  is  *  Sulky  Sue,'  "  whispered 
Gracie  Howard  to  Maggie  and  Bessie,  looking 


School.  69 

over,  at  the  mournful,  quiet  child.  "  She'd 
better  turn  her  face  to  the  wall,  till  she 
comes  to." 

"  Oh,  don't !  "  answered  Maggie.  "  She'll 
hear  you  ; "  and  Bessie  said,  "  I  think  she  feels 
sorry  about  something,  and  her  dress  is  so 
black.  Maybe  somebody  of  hers  is  dead." 

"  Yes,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  and  I'm  real  sorry 
for  her.  I  would  go  and  speak  to  her,  if —  if 
—  I  only  knew  what  to  say." 

"  I'll  go,"  said  Bessie,  and  rising,  she 
walked  over  to  Belle.  She  did  not  know  what 
to  say  either  ;  but  she  did  what  was  better : 
she  put  her  arm  around  the  child's  neck,  and 
kissed  her  lips  in  a  way  which  told  Belle  of 
the  sympathy  that  was  in  her  heart. 

Then  Belle's  tears  overflowed,  and,  putting 
both  her  own  arms  about  Bessie's  waist,  she 
laid  her  head  against  her,  and  cried  silently. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  whispered  Bessie. 

"  1  want  my  mamma,"  sobbed  the  child. 

"  But  you  know  you'll  see  her  pretty  soon," 
said  Bessie.  "  We  are  only  going  to  stay  in 


70  Bessie  at  School. 

school  a  little  while,  and  then  we'll  go  home 
and  see  our  mammas." 

"  I'll  never  see  my  mamma  again,"  said 
Belle ;  "  never,  never,  till  I'm  dead  myself ; 
and  I  wish  God  would  let  me  be  dead  now, 
only  then  papa  would  be  all  alone,  and  he  says 
I  am  all  his  comfort. '  But,  oh  dear !  mamma 
is  never  there  for  me  to  go  home  to." 

At  this,  Bessie's  tears  also  ran  over ;  and  as 
the  other  children,  drawn  by  Belle's  distress, 
gathered  about  them,  she  pointed  to  the  black 
dress,  and  said  with  trembling  lips,  "  Her 
mamma." 

Then  Maggie,  forgetting  to  feel  strange,  went 
down  on  her  knees  beside  Belle,  and  began  to 
caress  her;  and  Gracie,  full  of  remorse  foi 
having  called  her  "  Sulky  Sue,"  seized  on  one 
of  her  hands,  and  began  kissing  it ;  while  the 
others  stood  around  in  silent  pity. 

Their  sympathy  did  Belle  good.  She  did 
not  mourn  the  less  for  her  lost  mother,  but 
she  did  not  now  feel  so  lonesome  and  cast 
astray  as  she  had  done  a  moment  since  ;  and 


School.  71 

lifting  her  face  with  a  faint  smile  struggling 
through  her  tears,  she  held  up  her  lips  to  Bes- 
Bie  for  another  kiss,  saying,  "  I  love  you,  you're 
good ;  they're  all  good." 

As  she  spoke,  the  folding-doors  at  the  end 
of  the  room  were  thrown  open ;  and  Miss 
Ashton  appeared,  and  hurried  towards  them, 
rather  dismayed  at  finding  her  young  flock  in 
trouble  so  soon.  It  was  speedily  explained ; 
and  Maggie  and  Bessie  felt  sure  that  they 
should  love  their  new  teacher,  as  they  saw 
how  gentle  and  tender  she  was  with  the  moth- 
erless little  one.  She  did  not  say  much,  for 
Mrs.  Ashton  was  waiting  to  open  school ;  but, 
after  sending  the  others  to  their  seats,  she  led 
Belle  to  her  own  chair,  which  stood  before  the 
table  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  arid  lifted  her 
upon  her  lap,  laying  her  head  upon  her  bosom, 
and  passing  her  hand  over  the  child's  hair  and 
face  with  a  soothing  touch  which  soon  quieted 
her  sobs,  and  made  her  feel  that  Miss  Ashton 
was  her  friend  and  comforter,  as  well  as  her 
teacher. 


72  Bessie  at  School. 

The  opening  of  the  folding-doors  had  given 
to  view  a  second  room,  where  were  gathered  ten 
larger  girls,  from  fourteen  to  seventeen  years 
old :  very  tall  young  ladies  they  seemed  to 
Maggie  and  Bessie  ;  and  Mrs.  Ashton,  a  grave, 
elderly  lady,  in  a  widow's  dress,  sat  just  with- 
in the  doors,  where  she  could  be  seen  and 
heard  from  both  rooms.  She  opened  school 
with  a  short  prayer,  and  then  said  a  few  words 
to  all  the  children,  large  and  small,  telling 
them  she  hoped  they  would  be  obedient,  happy, 
industrious,  and  kind  to  one  another. 

"  Now  I  would  like  to  hear  the  names  of 
all  these  little  girls,"  she  said. 

The  answers  came  very  well  until  it  was 
Maggie's  turn  to  give  hers,  but  the  poor  child 
was  in  an  agony  of  bashfulness,  and  could  by 
no  means  speak.  While  Mrs.  Ashton  was 
talking,  she  had  happened  to  look  up,  and 
caught  a  pair  of  mischievous,  dancing,  black 
eyes  fixed  upon  her  from  the  other  room. 
After  that,  she  could  not  help  glancing  up  at 
them  every  moment  or  two ;  and  each  time 


School.  73 

ahe  did  so,  her  color  deepened  and  deepened, 
and  her  head  sank  lower  and  lower ;  for  the 
owner  of  the  black  eyes  kept  smiling  and 
nodding,  making  odd  faces,  and  shaking  her 
finger,  till  Maggie  did  not  know  whether  to 
laugh  or  cry;  and  by  the  time  the  question 
came  to  her,  her  small  stock  of  courage  and 
her  voice  were  both  gone. 

"  Cannot  you  tell  me  your  name,  my  dear  ? " 
asked  Mrs.  Ashton. 

"Her  name  is  Maggie  Stanton  Bradford," 
said  Bessie,  taking  her  sister  by  the  hand. 

"  You  should  let  your  sister  speak  for  her- 
self, my  dear,"  said  the  lady. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  said  Bessie,  respectfully,  but 
steadily ;  "  I  came  to  school  to  be  of  use  and 
comfort  to  Maggie,  and  when  she  don't  want 
to  speak  'cause  she  feels  shy,  why  she  likes 
me  to  do  it  for  her,  so  I  have  to.  And,  ma'am, 
you  said  you  wanted  us  to  be  industrious ;  but 
I'm  'fraid  I  can't.  I  have  to  be  rather  lazy." 

"  My  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  "  you 
surely  do  not  come  to  school  to  be  lazy." 


74  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Oh,  yes,  ma'am  !  "  said  Bessie,  gravely. 
"  Mamma  'spressly  said  that  I  was  not  to 
study  much,  and  that  was  condition  that  I 
came  to  school." 

Bessie  was  growing  rather  frightened  her 
self  at  having  to  speak  before  so  many ;  but 
she  thought  she  ought  to  let  Mrs.  Ashton 
know  how  and  why  she  had  come  to  school, 
and  what  was  to  be  expected  of  her ;  and 
that  she  might  as  well  have  her  say  out  at 
once. 

The  other  children  were  all  listening  to  her 
in  great  astonishment,  and  some  of  the  great 
girls  in  the  back  room  were  beginning  to 
laugh.  Bessie  wondered  why  they  did  so. 
and  thought  they  were  not  very  polite.  Mrs. 
Ashton  heard  her  with  a  half  smile,  breaking 
over  her  pale  face,  and  Miss  Ashton  was  smil- 
ing outright. 

"Oh!"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  "I  understand, 
.You  are  Bessie  Bradford.  Mary,  I  think  you 
should  make  this  matter  a  little  plainer." 

Miss  Ashton  said  she  would  do  so  ;   and 


School.  75 

then  the  doors  were  closed  again,  and  the 
business  of  the  day  began. 

"  Now,  little  Belle,"  said  Miss  Ashton, "  will 
you  go  to  your  seat  ?  " 

Belle  clung  to  her  teacher,  and  whispered 
something  in  her  ear. 

"  Belle  wishes  very  much  to  sit  by  Bessie 
Bradford,"  said  Miss  Ashton.  "  How  shall 
we  fix  it?  Will  Bessie  change  her  seat,  or 
will  Maggie  or  Gracie  give  up  hers.  It  is 
only  for  to-day ;  to-morrow,  Belle  will  fee] 
more  at  home,  and  that  you  are  all  her 
friends." 

Maggie  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the 
effect  of  the  black  eyes,  although  they  were 
now  shut  from  view ;  and  she  tightened  her 
hold  of  Bessie's  hand,  feeling  that  she  could 
scarcely  bear  to  be  separated  from-  her  just 
now. 

Gracie  did  not  want  to  give  up  her  seat, 
either,  for  she  liked  to  sit  by  Bessie ;  but 
while  she  hesitated,  and  Miss  Ashton  waited, 
she  remembered  when  they  were  at  Quam 


j6  Bessie  at  School. 

Beach  summer  before  last,  and  went  to  Sun- 
day school  in  the  barn,  Maggie  had  gone  to 
sit  by  Mamie  Stone,  a  girl  whom  no  other 
child  would  have  near  her,  and  with  whom 
Maggie  had  just  had  a  quarrel.  And  she 
thought,  if  she  would  do  so  much  for  a  quar- 
relsome child,  who  had  been  unkind  to  her 
and  her  sister,  might  not  she  give  up  her  seat 
to  this  little,  sad,  motherless  one,  who  already 
looked  on  the  dear  Bessie  as  her  friend  ?  She 
had  called  her  "  Sulky  Sue,"  too  ! 

Maggie  would  have  been  very  much  aston 
ished  if  she  had  been  told  that  the  small  act 
of  self-denial  and  forgiveness  which  she  had 
long  since  forgotten  was  bearing  fruit  now ; 
but  so  it  was,  and,  jumping  up,  Gracie  said, 
"  Belle  may  have  my  seat  by  Bessie  to-day 
and  to-morrow,  too,  Miss  Ashton." 

Gracie  felt  quite  repaid  when  she  saw 
Belle's  grateful  smile,  and  the  comfort  she 
seemed  to  take  in  being  close  by  Bessie. 

Miss  Ashton  said  they  would  have  no  reg- 
alar  lessons  for  that  day,  as  she  must  first 


School  77 

find  out  how  much  each  one  knew,  and  then 
arrange  their  studies ;  and  she  told  Bessie  she 
thought  she  had  misunderstood  her  mamma's 
meaning.  She  did  not  wish  her  to  be  a  lazy 
girl:  she  wanted  her  to  be  industrious,  and 
try  to  do  well  whatever  was  given  her  to  do ; 
but  she  had  feared  Bessie  would  not  be  satis- 
fied if  she  were  not  allowed  to  go  on  as  fast 
as  Maggie,  and  some  of  the  others ;  and  thai 
she  did  not  think  would  be  wise.  When  she 
went  home,  she  must  ask  her  mamma  if  it 
were  not  so. 

Then  she  questioned  them  all  in  the  multi- 
plication and  addition  tables,  and  in  geography, 
made  them  spell  words  of  different  lengths, 
^nd  heard  each  child  read  aloud ;  after  which 
she  said  she  should  divide  her  class  into  two  ; 
Bessie,  Belle,  and  Carrie  Ransom  in  one,  and 
the  rest,  she  thought,  could  keep  on  together. 
Then  she  set  their  lessons  for  the  next  day, 
and  afterwards  read  them  an  interesting  story 
of  a  good  and  wise  young  prince,  who  had 
lived  many,  many  years  ago.  This  was  Misa 


78  Bessie  at  School. 

Ashton's  way  of  teaching  history ;  she  would 
read  or  tell  them  of  some  good  or  great  per- 
son on  one  day,  and,  the  next,  she  would 
question  them  about  her  story,  and  see  how 
much  they  remembered. 

In  fact,  she  made  all  their  studies  interest- 
ing: she  had  such  a  pleasant,  easy  way  of 
teaching.  For  instance,  she  would  say,  "  Belle, 
how  many  are  three  and  three  ?  " 

Belle  could  not  remember. 

"  Suppose  three  little  girls  are  going  to 
have  a  tea-party,  you  and  Bessie  and  Carrie, 
and  three  more,  Maggie  and  Gracie  and  Lily, 
come  and  ask  to 'be  invited.  If  you  say,  yes, 
then  how  many  little  girls  would  there  be  at 
the  party  ?  " 

"  Six,"  answered  Belle,  promptly ;  and  Car- 
rie said,  "  But  maybe  we  would  be  dis'bliging, 
and  say  no,  and  then  we  would  be  only 
three ; "  at  which  the  other  children  laughed, 
and  so  did  Miss  Ashton ;  but  Belle  never  for- 
got again  that  three  and  three  made  six. 

They  learned  none  the  slower  for  this  pleas 


School. 


79 


ant,  take-it-home-to-one's-self  kind  of  teaching, 
you  maj  be  sure ;  and,  as  the  weeks  went  by, 
there  was  not  one  of  the  little  class  whose 
friends  did  not  find  her  greatly  improved. 


IV. 

SCHOOLMATES. 

IT  twelve  o'clock  Miss  Ashton  dis- 
missed her  class,  and  the  large  girls 
in  the  other  room  had  a  recess ;  but 
Maggie  and  Bessie  did  not  go  home  imme- 
diately, for  Maggie  had  a  music-lesson  to  take 
for  half  an  hour,  and  her  sister  waited  for  her. 
During  this  time,  she  had  leave  to  amuse  her- 
self as  she  pleased ;  for  Mrs.  and  Miss  Ashton 
soon  found  she  was  a  child  who  could  be 
trusted,  and  that  there  was  no  need  to  watch 
her  lest  she  should  get  into  mischief. 

Sometimes,  if  the  day  were  fine  and  mild, 
Miss  Ashton  would  put  on  her  wrappings,  and 
let  her  run  in  the  queer  old  garden,  and  make 
acquaintance  with  the  pigeons  and  peacocks 
who  lived  there.  Sometimes  she  would  look 


Schoolmates.  81 

at  a  picture-book,  or  at  some  shells  Miss  Ash- 
ton  would  lend  her,  or  draw  on  her  own  slate ; 
and  sometimes  she  would  be  carried  off  by 
some  of  the  larger  girls,  with  whom  she  soon 
became  a  great  pet,  and  who  found  much 
amusement  in  her  wise,  ladylike  little  ways 
and  droll  sayings.  But  her  great  enjoyment 
was  to  stand  at  the  windows  of  the  back 
school-room,  which  looked  out  over  the  garden 
and  vacant  lots,  and  watch  the  boys  at  their 
play. 

During  school-hours,  the  doors  betreen  the 
rooms  were  sometimes  open,  sometimes  shut, 
as  was  most  convenient ;  and  Maggie  was  al- 
ways very  glad  when  the  latter  was  the  case, 
for  that  pair  of  black  eyes  continued  to  be  a 
great  disturbance  to  her  even  after  she  had 
learned  to  know  and  like  their  owner.  This 
was  Miss  Kate  Maynard,  a  bright,  merry, 
mischievous  girl,  full  of  fun  and  spirits,  which 
she  did  not  always  keep  in  proper  check,  so 
that  though  she  was  a  generous,  kind-hearted 
girl,  she  was  often  bringing  herself  and  others 

6 


82  Bessie  at  School. 

into  trouble.  More  than  one  lesson  had  not 
yet  taught  her  that  — 

"Evil  is  wrought  by  want  of  thought, 
As  well  as  by  want  of  heart." 

It  did  not  enter  her  mind  for  one  moment  that 
she  was  causing  real  suffering  to  that  timid 
little  child  in  the  other  room  by  her  teasing 
looks  and  signs  and  grimaces.  It  amused 
Kate  to  see  how  against  her  own  will  Maggie's 
eyes  seemed  drawn  to  hers,  and  how,  after 
every  new  glance,  her  blushes  grew  deeper 
and  deeper,  and  she  fidgeted  more  and  more 
uneasily  on  her  seat.  Katie  Maynard  would 
have  been  shocked  at  the  thought  of  giving  a 
blow  or  a  pinch  to  the  child,  but  Maggie  would 
have  readily  taken  the  blow  to  be  free  from 
those  tantalizing  eyes.  It  was  "  fun  "  to  Katie, 
and  she  "  did  not  think"  what  it  cost  the  little 
girl. 

On  this  first  day  at  school,  Miss  Ashton 
asked  Bessie  how  she  would  amuse  herself 
while  Maggie  took  her  lesson ;  and  the  child, 


Schoolmates.  83 

who  did  not  yet  feel  quite  at  home,  begged 
that  she  might  go  down  to  the  parlor  with  her 
sister.  Miss  Ashton  consented,  but  said  she 
feared  she  would  find  it  rather  dull ;  and  her 
words  proved  true.  Bessie  stood  by  in  loving 
admiration  while  Maggie  played  over  one  of 
the  simple  airs  her  mother  had  taught  her; 
but  when  it  came  to  exercises,  and  "  one,  two, 
three,  —  one,  two,  three,"  she  found  it  pretty 
tiresome.  She  wandered  around  the  room  a 
few  moments,  and  then,  hearing  the  sound  of 
laughing  and  talking  in  the  hall,  opened  the 
door,  and  looked  out  to  see  what  was  going 
on.  Several  of  the  older  girls  were  there, 
and  as  soon  as  Bessie's  little  head  appeared, 
they  saw  and  called  to  her. 

"  There's  Bessie  Bradford,"  said  one. 

"  Oh,  you  dear  little  thing ! "  cried  another ; 
"  come  out  here  and  talk  to  us." 

Bessie  hesitated  a  moment ;  and  then,  think- 
ing it  might  be  more  amusing  talking  to  the 
foung  ladies  than  to  stay  quiet  and  hear 
Maggie  practising,  went  slowly  towards  them. 


&4  Bessie  at  School. 

In  an  instant  Katie  Maynard  snatched  her  up 
in  her  arms,  and,  after  waltzing  gayly  through 
the  hall  with  her,  brought  her  back  to  the 
stairs,  where  she  seated  herself  with  her  prize 
upon  her  knee,  and  four  or  five  other  girls 
gathered  about  them. 

"  How  old  are  you,  Bessie  ?  "  asked  one. 

"  Six  years  and  a  half,"  answered  Bessie ; 
"  and  when  I  have  another  birthday,  I'll  be 
seven." 

"  Here's  a  doughnut  for  you,  Bessie,"  said 
another. 

"  No,  thank  you,"  said  Bessie.  "  Mamma 
never  gives  me  doughnuts." 

"  You'd  better  have  it,"  said  the  young  lady. 
"  It  is  very  nice,  and  there's  a  big  raisin  in  the 
middle." 

Bessie  looked  longingly  at  the  doughnut,  for 
she  felt  rather  hungry,  and  it  certainly  looked 
very  nice  ;  but  she  shook  her  head  decidedly 

"  No,  thank  you,"  she  said  again. 

"  Did  your  mamma  forbid  you  ever  to  eat 
them,"  said  the  young  lady. 


Schoolmates.  85 

"  She  did  not  say  we  must  not ;  but  it's  jusl 
the  same,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  for  she  never  gives 
them  to  us,  and  I  do  not  think  it  is  a  kind  of 
cake  she  would  like  us  to  eat." 

"  And  so  you  came  to  school  '  to  be  of  use 
to  your  sister,  and  to  be  lazy,'  did  you  ? " 
asked  Kate  Maynard. 

"  I  believe  I  made  a  little  mistake  about 
that,"  answered  the  child-  "  Miss  Ashton 
made  me  understand  it  better ;  and,  when  I 
go  home,  I  am  going  to  ask  mamma  if  she  is 
right." 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  dared  to  speak  out 
to  Mrs.  Ashton  about  it,"  said  Fanny  Berry. 
"  Where  did  you  get  so  much  pluck,  you  little 
mite  ?  " 

"  Were  you  not  afraid  ?  "  asked  Kate. 

"  Yes'm,  a  little.  But  then  you  see  I  had 
to  tell  her." 

"  And  why  did  you  have  to  tell  her  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  was  afraid  she  was  'specting  me 
to  do  what  mamma  did  not  want  me  to  do." 

"  But  if  mamma  had  said  you  were  not  to- 


86  Bessie  at  School. 

play  much,  would  you  have  been  in  such  a 
hurry  to  tell  Mrs.  Ashton  ?  "  asked  Fanny. 

"  You  need  not  ask  that  after  the  doughnut," 
said  Kate,  before  Bessie  could  speak. 

"  Are  you  always  so  particular  about  doing 
as  your  mamma  wishes,  whether  she  knows  it 
or  not  ?  "  said  the  young  lady  who  had  offered 
the  doughnut. 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Bessie.     "  Are  not  you  ?  " 

At  this,  two  or  three  of  the  girls  laughed ; 
and  Kate  Maynard  said,  "  That  shoe  pinches : 
does  it  not,  Mary  ?  No,  indeed,  Bessie :  filial 
obedience  and  respect  are  not  among  Mary 
Morton's  weaknesses." 

"  Do  you  mean  she  don't  mind  her  mother  ?  " 
asked  Bessie,  looking  up  with  astonishment  at 
Miss  Morton,  who  colored,  tossed  her  head, 
and  then  laughed. 

*'  Something  that  way,"  answered  Kate. 

"  I  am  no  worse  than  others,"  said  Mary. 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Kate.     "  I  do  not  set 

myself  up  for  being  very  good,  and  I  own  I 

'am  not  always  as  considerate  and  dutiful  to 


Schoolmates.  87 

my  mother  as  I  should  be ;  but  I  do  not  think 
my  conscience  would  give  me  much  rest  if  I 
spoke  to  her  the  way  you  dp  to  your  mother, 
Mary." 

"  Your  conscience  need  not  trouble  itself 
about  my  doings,"  said  Mary,  sharply. 

"  But,  Bessie,"  put  in  Fanny  Berry,  anxious 
to  turn  aside  the  threatened  quarrel,  "  suppose 
your  mother  told  you  to  do  one  thing,  and 
Miss  Ashton  told  you  to  do  just  the  opposite. 
What  then  ? " 

"  Course  I'd  mind  my  own  mamma,"  said 
Bessie ;  "  but  I  don't  believe  Miss  Ashton 
would  tell  me  to  do  what  mamma  did  not 
want  me  to.  I  think  she  is  very  good  and 
nice,  and  I  am  sure  she  wouldn't  want  little 
girls  to  be  dis'bedient." 

"  Maybe  not,"  said  Fanny.  "  But  suppose 
she  ordered  you  to  do  something  which  your 
mamma  had  not  forbidden,  but  of  which  you 
were  sure  she  would  disapprove :  how  then  ?  " 

"  I'd  say, '  Please  to  'scuse  me,  ma'am  ;  but 
'tis  quite  unposs^le.' " 


88  Bessie  at  School. 

The  girls  laughed. 

"  But  yon  are  expected  to  mind  your  teachers 
when  you  come  to  school,"  said  Kate ;  "  and 
you  promised  Mrs.  Ashton  you  would  be  obe- 
dient :  did  you  not  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie, "  but " she  paused, 

and  leaned  her  cheek  thoughtfully  on  one  little 
hand,  while  she  drew  the  forefinger  of  the 
other  slowly  over  the  buttons  of  Kate's  dress. 
She  knew  very  well  how  she  felt  about  it  her- 
self, and  that  she  was  right ;  but  she  could  not 
seem  to  make  these  teasing  girls  understand 
how  it  was.  She  had  a  suspicion  that  they 
were  laughing  at  her  too ;  and  she  began  to 
feel  angry,  as  was  plainly  to  be  seen  by  her 
rising  color  and  trembling  lip  ;  and  Kate,  who 
was  already  sorry  for  her  carelessness  in  trou- 
bling the  sensitive  conscience  and  puzzling 
the  thoughtful  little  head,  said  coaxingly, 
"  You  are  not  vexed,  Bessie  ?  " 

Bessie  looked  gravely  at  her  for  a  moment ; 
and  then,  as  the  angry  flush  faded  away,  she 
answered,  "  I  believe  I  was  going  to  be." 


Schoolmates.  89 

"  And  you've  changed  your  mind,  have 
you  ?  "  asked  Mary  Morton. 

"  I  think  I  ought  to  be  sorry  for  you,"  said 
the  child. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Fanny. 

"  'Cause  you  don't  have  such  wise  and  good 
mammas  as  mine  to  give  you  understanding 
of  what  is  right  without  bothering  little  girls 
like  me  who  don't  know  the  best  way  to  talk 
about  it,"  answered  Bessie,  with  an  air  of 
grave  reproof  which  was  extremely  amusing 
to  the  girls,  who  now  laughed  uproariously. 

Bessie  tried  hard  to  slip  from  Kate  May- 
nard's  knee  ;  but  the  young  lady  held  her  fast, 
saying,  — 

"  We've  caught  it  now,  girls,  and  served  us 
right  too.  Sit  still,  Bessie :  you  shall  not  be 
teased  any  more." 

"  You  cannot  make  the  two  duties  agree, 
eh,  Bessie  ?  "  said  Julia  Graffcon.  "  Well,  you 
are  not  the  first  person  who  has  been  troubled 
in  that  way." 

The   word   "  duty "   brought  a  thought  to 


po  Bessie  at  School. 

Bessie's  mind ;  and  suddenly  looking  up,  with 
the  light  breaking  over  her  face,  she  ex- 
claimed, — 

"  Now  I  know  every  thing  about  it !  God 
gave  me  to  mamma  for  her  own  little  girl,  to 
mind  her  first,  and  to  do  every  thing  I  know 
she  will  like.  That  is  the  nearest  duty,  and  ] 
must  not  let  any  thing  put  me  away  from  it. 
But  mamma  has  a  great  deal  of  wisdom  and 
care  for  her  children,  and  if  she  did  not  have 
such  trust  in  Miss  Ashton  to  make  us  do  the 
things  she  likes,  I  know  she  would  not  send 
Maggie  and  me  to  her.  So  we  are  to  mind 
Miss  Ashton  all  we  can,  without  dis'beying 
mamma." 

"  Pretty  well  reasoned,"  said  Julia ;  and 
Kate,  giving  Bessie  a  squeeze  and  a  kiss,  ex- 
claimed, — 

"  You  know  a  thing  or  two,  do  you  not  ?  " 

"  I  did  not  know  that  of  myself,"  said  Bes- 
sie. "  The  other  day  grandmamma  told  us  a 
story  to  show  us  how  we  must  first  do  the 
duty  we  were  quite  sure  about ;  and  when  that 


Schoolmates.  91 

foung  lady  spoke  about  two  duties,  it  made 
me  think  how  it  was." 

Her  hearers  smiled,  and  looked  approvingly 
at  one  another ;  but  there  was  something  in 
the  child's  simple  honesty  and  innocence 
which  touched  even  these  thoughtless  school- 
girls, and  kept  them  from  putting  into  words 
their  wonder  and  admiration  at  the  clear, 
straightforward  way  in  which  she  had  helped 
herself  out  of  the  difficulty  into  which  they, 
in  their  love  of  mischief,  had  brought  her. 

Kate  kept  her  word,  and  did  not  allow  Bes- 
sie to  be  annoyed  or  teased  any  more ;  but  her 
little  head  was  still  puzzled  by  some  of  the 
things  she  had  heard  these  great  girls  say. 
She  put  by  these  thoughts,  however,  till  she 
should  be  able  to  speak  to  her  mother  about 
them,  and  chatted  away  sociably  with  Kate 
and  the  others,  till  Maggie  had  finished  her 
lesson,  and  Jane  came  to  take  them  home. 

"  There's  straightforward  honesty  and  wise 
simplicity  for  you,"  said  Kate  Maynard,  as  the 
front  door  closed  behind  the  two  little  girla 


92  Bessie  at  School. 

and  their  nurse,  and  the  bell  rang  to  call  her- 
self and  her  schoolmates  back  to  their  studies. 

"  She  won't  be  quite  so  squeamishly  truthful 
and  obedient  when  she  has  been  at  school  a 
month,"  said  Julia  (irafton. 

"  I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  Kate.  "  I 
believe  she  will.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  truth 
and  obedience  are  not  only  matters  of  habit, 
but  matters  of  conscience  with  her ;  and  I  do 
not  think  she  is  a  child  whom  it  will  be  easy 
to  turn  from  what  she  believes  to  be  right." 

"  Wait  till  she's  tried,  and  you'll  see,"  said 
Mary  Morton.  "  It  don't  do  to  be  too  par- 
ticular at  school.  One  would  be  in  all  kinds 
of  trouble." 

"  I  have  not  generally  found  that  strict 
truth  and  honesty  were  so  apt  to  bring  people 
into  trouble,  as  the  contrary,"  said  Fanny 
Berry,  dryly,  as  they  entered  the  school-room. 

"  Well,  my  darlings,"  said  mamma,  as  the 
two  bright  faces  appeared  before  her,  "  you 
do  not  look  as  if  school  were  such  a  sad  affair 
after  all." 


Schoolmates.  93 

"  Oh,  no,  mamma  !  "  said  Maggie  :  "  it  is 
not  sad  at  all,  but  a  very  nice  affair.  We  like 
it  very  much,  and  Miss  Ashton  is  so  kind,  and 
teaches  us  so  interestingly.  But  I  like  it  best 
when  the  doors  are  shut,  and  the  young  ladies 
in  the  other  room  can't  see  me." 

"  And  what  does  my  Bessie  say  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Bradford. 

Bessie  had  quite  as  much  to  say  in  praise 
of  the  new  school,  and  the  little  tongues  ran 
on  till  mamma  had  been  told  of  all  they  had 
heard  and  seen  that  morning. 

"And,  mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "I've  found 
out  that  something  was  true  that  grand- 
mamma told  me  the  other  day.  She  said  my 
shyness  might  stand  in  the  way  of  my  being 
of  good  to  others  ;  and  this  morning  I  found 
how  it  could  be.  There  was  a  little  girl  whose 
mother  was  dead,  and  she  was  shy  too,  and 
felt  very  sad ;  and  I  wanted  to  say  a  kind 
thing  to  her,  but  somehow  I  couldn't.  But 
Bessie  went  and  spoke  to  her,  and  was  of 
great  comfort  to  her;  and  so  I  saw  what 


94  Bessie  at  School. 

grandmamma  meant,  and  why  I  ought  to  try 
and  cure  myself  of  being  shy." 

"  My  dear  little  girl !  "  said  her  mother,  ten- 
derly ;  and  in  her  heart  she  thanked  God  that 
her  child  was  so  ready  to  take  to  heart  and 
learn  the  lesson  she  needed. 

Then  she  asked  about  the  little  one  who 
had  lost  her  dear  mother ;  and  when  she 
heard  that  her  name  was  Belle  Powers,  she 
said  that,  when  she  was  a  young  lady,  she  had 
a  very  intimate  friend  who  had  married  a  gen- 
tleman named  Powers,  and  moved  away  to 
the  South  ;  but  for  many  years  she  had  heard 
nothing  of  her  ;  and  she  now  wondered  if  she 
might  not  have  been  Belle's  mother.  What 
made  her  think  so,  was,  that  her  friend's  own 
name  had  been  Belle.  If  it  were  really  so, 
she  would  like  to  be  kind  to  the  little  child 
for  her  mother's  sake,  as  well  as  her  own. 

Bessie  told  her  that  Belle  had  no  brothera 
or  sisters ;  and  how  Miss  Ashton  had  said  that 
her  papa  had  sent  her  to  school,  thinking  that 
it  might  do  her  good,  and  make  her  forget  her 


Schoolmates.  95 

grief  to  be  with  other  children  ;  and  that  they 
must'  all  remember  that  she  was  lonely  and 
sorrowful,  and  be  very  kind  to  her. 

Mrs.  Bradford  was  very  sorry  for  little 
Belle,  and  she  said  the  children  might  tell 
her  to  ask  her  father  to  let  her  come  home 
with  them  some  day  after  school,  and  have  a 
good  play  in  their  merry,  happy  nursery.  Of 
course,  Maggie  and  Bessie  immediately  be- 
came anxious  to  have  the  day  fixed,  and 
mamma  said,  if  they  were  to  do  a  kind  thing, 
it  might  as  well  be  done  at  once  ;  so  they 
could  ask  Belle  for  the  next  day  but  one. 

Bessie  told  her  mother  of  the  mistake  she 
had  made,  and  how  Miss  Ashton  had  ex- 
plained it  to  her;  and  mamma  said  their 
teacher  was  quite  right,  and  that  she  should 
herself  have  made  Bessie  understand  more 
plainly  what  she  wished  her  to  do. 

"  But,  mamma,"  said  the  little  girl,  "  there 
was  one  thing  that  was  very  strange.  Those 
young  ladies  in  Mrs.  Ashton's  class  seemed  to 
think  it  was  very  surprising  that  I  told  her 


96  Bessie  at  School. 

what  I  thought  you  meant  me  to  do,  and  I 
almost  think  they  would  not  have  told  her 
themselves ;  and  they  troubled  me  so  about 
minding  you,  that  I  hardly  knew  how  it  was. 
I  think  they  might  have  been  doing  something 
better :  don't  you,  mamma  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bradford  asked  what  she  meant,  and 
Bessie  told  all  that  had  passed  between  her- 
self and  the  girls. 

Mamma  said  she  had  answered  very  well ; 
and  that  she  was  glad  she  knew  what  was 
right  herself,  whether  she  had  made  the  others 
understand  it  or  no. 

"  And  you  were  quite  right  about  Miss  Ash- 
ton,  my  darling,"  she  said ;  "  for  if  I  had  not 
perfect  confidence  in  her,  and  did  not  believe 
she  would  guide  and  teach  my  little  girls  as  I 
would  wish  to  do  myself,  I  should  not  have 
put  you  under  her  care.  And  you  must  try 
to  remember  this,  dear,  if  Miss  Ashton  should 
give  you  an  order  or  rule  which  you  think 
doubtful.  Many  things  which  would  be  right 
and  proper  for  you  at  home,  would  not  be  best 


tSchoolmates.  y*j 

in  school ;  and,  again,  that  which  is  wise  and 
necessary  in  school,  would  not  do  at  home. 
In  all  this,  you  must  let  her  judge  for  you, 
and  do  as  you  are  bid.  Then  you  may 
afterwards  tell  me,  and  see  what  I  have 
to  say." 

"  Mamma,"  said  Maggie,  "  I  am  afraid  it 
will  be  harder  to  be  good  at  school,  than  it  is 
at  home." 

"  I  dare  say  it  will,  Maggie  :  you  will  prob- 
ably have  some  trials  and  temptations  there 
which  you  would  not  have  at  Itome.  But 
you  must  remember,  dear,  that '  our  Father's  ' 
strong  and  loving  care  is  with  us  in  the  one 
place  as  well  as  in  the  other.  When  tempta- 
tion creeps  in,  you  have  only  to  ask  His  help ; 
and  He  will  give  you  the  strength  and  grace 
you  need  to  bid  it  begone.  And  if  we  feel  we 
are  likely  to  be  tempted,  it  must  only  make  us 
all  the  more  watchful,  Maggie." 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  said  Maggie :  "  we  must 
keep  our  hands  all  the  more  closely  on  the 
silver  thread  of  conscience,  and  look  all  the 
7 


98  Bessie  at  School. 

more  at  the  golden  letters  on  the  guide-posts ; 
must  we  not  ?  " 

It  wat  more  than  a  year  since  Colonel  Rush 
had  first  told  his  story  of  "  Benito'"  to  these 
dear  children :  but  it  never  seemed  to  lose 
its  freshness  or  interest  for  them  ;  and  he 
often  wondered,  and  was  grateful,  as  he  saw 
how  they  had  taken  it  home  to  themselves, 
making  it  fit  into  their  own  young  lives,  and 
of  their  own  accord  drawing  all  manner  of 
sweet  and  useful  lessons  from  it. 

• "  And,  grandmamma,"  continued  Maggie, 
to  her  grandmother  who  was  sitting  by,  "  I 
found  out  this  morning  how  there  could  be 
other  work  to  do  for  Jesus  in  school  besides 
studying,  and  reciting  well,  and  obeying  my 
teachers.  I  think  Bessie  was  doing  His  work 
when  she  went  and  comforted  Belle ;  and 
Gracie  did  a  little  bit  of  \vark  for  Him  when 
eb  <?  gave  up  her  seat  to  her." 

"Did  my  Maggie  find  nothing?"  asked 
mamma. 

"  I'm  most  afraid  I  did  not,  mamma,"  said 


Schoolmates.  c,p 

Maggie,  slowly ;  "  at  least,  if  I  did,  it  was 
such  a  very  little  thing,  it  is  not  worth  to 
speak  about." 

"  But  I  should  like  to  hear,"  said  Mrs 
Bradford. 

"  "Well,  marnma,  Carrie  Ransom  had  a  copy- 
book with  a  blue  cover,  and  I  had  one  with  a 
pink  one,  and  Carrie  liked  the  pink  one  best, 
and  I  said  I  would  change  with  her ;  but  it 
was  not  a  very  great  thing  to  do,  for  I  did  not 
care  much  about  the  color." 

"  But  you  did  it  because  Carrie  cared,  and 
you  wanted  to  be  kind  to  her :  did  you  not, 
dear?" 

"  Yes,  mamma." 

"  And  Jesus  put  it  into  your  heart  to  do  it ; 
so  was  it  not  His  work  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  believe  so,  mamma ;  and  I  remem- 
ber now  grandmamma  said  it  was  not  so  much 
what  we  did  for  God,  as  how  we  did  it,  and 
why  we  did  it,  that  made  it  His  own  work." 

A  pleasant  surprise  awaited  Maggie  and 
Bessie  that  afternoon,  while  they  were  out 


ioo  Bessie  at  School. 

with   the   other   children   and  their   nurses 
Baby  Annie  was  taking  her  first  walk  upon 
the  pavement,  led  by  her  two  proud  little 
sisters,  each  holding  a  hand,  while  Mammy 
followed  close  behind. 

The  little  one,  enchanted  with  her  new 
performance,  was  chattering  away  in  her  own 
sweet  language,  not  in  the  least  disturbed  by 
the  fact  that  no  one  but  herself  understood  it ; 
and  Maggie  and  Bessie  were  watching,  and 
listening  to  her  in  delighted  satisfaction,  when 
a  pleased  voice  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  there  they 
are  !  and  a  nice  baby  with  them  !  "  and  Belle 
Powers  came  running  up  to  them.  She  scarce- 
ly looked  like  the  sad  child  of  the  morning,  so 
glad  was  she  to  see  them ;  and  you  may  be 
sure  she  had  a  kind  welcome  from  her  young 
friends. 

"  I  was  just  telling  Daphne  about  you," 
she  said,  looking  round  at  the  old  colored 
woman  who  followed  her,  "  and  there  you 
came.  Was  it  not  funny  ?  " 

The  other  children  also  thought  it  a  rather 


Schoolmates.  101 

remarkable  circumstance,  but  a  very  pleasant 
one ;  and  nurse  now  saying  that  baby  had 
walked  far  enough,  took  her  up  in  her  arms, 
and  Belle  took  her  place  between  the  two  little 
girls ;  old  Daphne,  delighted  to  see  a  smile  on 
the  sad  face  of  her  young  charge,  coming  on 
with  the  other  nurses. 

Belle  was  soon  told  of  mamma's  invitation, 
and  readily  promised  to  ask  her  papa's  per- 
mission to  go  home  with  Maggie  and  Bessio 
on  Wednesday  after  school. 
"  Where  do  you  live  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 
"  Over  there  in  that  hotel,"  answered  Belle, 
"  Why,  do  you  ?  "  said  Bessie.    "  My  soldiei 
lives  there  too.     He  never  told  us  about  you." 
"  Who  is  your  soldier  ?  "  asked  Belle. 
"  Colonel  Rush :  don't  you  know  him?  " 
"  No,"  said  Belle  :  "  I  never  saw  him." 
"  Why,  how  very  queer  to  live  in  the  same 
house,  and  not  to  know  him !  "  said  Bessie  ; 
but  Jane,  who  heard  what  they  said,  explained 
to  them  that  people  might  live  for  months  or 
years  in  that  great  building,  and  yet  never 


io2  Bessie  at  School. 

know  more  of  one  another  than  if  they  lived 
in  different  cities.  The  children  thought  this 
very  strange  and  unsociable  ;  but  Belle  and  the 
colonel  were  a  proof  that  Jane's  words  were 
true. 

"  I  think  we'd  better  try  to  bring  you  ac- 
quainted with  Uncle  Horace  and  Aunt  May," 
said  Bessie  ;  "  they'll  be  very  kind  to  you,  I 
know." 

"  Did  you  never  see  us  when  we  went  to  the 
hotel  ?  "  asked  Maggie.  "  We  go  there  very 
often." 

"  No,"  said  Belle.  "  But,  then,  I  have  not 
been  here  very  long.  I  used  to  live  in  my 
home." 

"  Where  was  that  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Oh !  in  a  great  deal  nicer  place  than  this, 
far  away  down  at  the  South,"  answered  Belle. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Maggie,  eagerly  ;  "  and  what 
was  your  mamma's  name  ?  "  she  would  have 
added,  but  suddenly  thinking  that  the  mention 
of  her  mother  might  bring  back  the  shadow  to 
that  sad  little  face,  she  checked  herself. 


Schoolmates.  103 

She  need  not  have  feared.  Her  tongue 
once  loosened  on  the  subject  ol  her  beloved 
Southern  home,  Belle  talked  away  about  that 
and  her  dear  mother  in  a  manner  which 
showed  it  did  her  good  to  speak  of  them ; 
while  her  new  friends  listened  with  great 
interest. 

"  What  was  your  mamma's  name  ?  "  asked 
Maggie,  at  last  venturing  her  interrupted 
question. 

"  Her  name  was  Belle,  like  mine,"  said  the 
child. 

"  Oh !  "  said  Bessie,  joyfully :  "  then  I  think 
she  must  have  been  our  mamma's  friend." 

"  How  very  nice  that  would  be !  "  said 
Maggie.  "  Belle,  if  your  mamma  and  our 
mamma  used  to  be  friends,  won't  you  be  our 
inseparable  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Belle :  "  I  don't  think  I'd  like  to 
be  that  kind  of  a  thing." 

"  Do  you  know  what  it  is  ?  "  asked  Maggie, 
rather  taken  aback  at  this  plump  refusal  to 
her  friendly  invitation. 


Bessie  at  School. 

"  No,"  said  Belle  ;  "  but  it  don't  sound  very 
nice." 

"  Oh.  I  think  it  sounds  so  nice ! "  said 
Maggie.  "  It  means  to  be  very,  very  great 
friends,  and  to  be  very  fond  of  each  other,  and 
tell  each  other  all  our  secrets." 

"  I'd  just  as  lief  be,  if  it  means  that,"  said 
Belle.  "  I  think  you  and  Bessie  are  very 
good,  and  I  am  going  to  love  you  a  great  deal. 
But  I  don't  have  any  secrets.  Can  you  tell 
me  yours  if  I  don't  have  any  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes ! "  said  Maggie  ;  "  and  maybe  some 
of  these  days  you'll  have  some,  and  then  you 
can  tell  us.  But  Bessie  and  I  always  tell  our 
secrets  to  mamma,  'cause  she  says  it  is  not 
right  for  little  girls  to  have  secrets  from  their 
mothers." 

So  the  treaty  was  made,  and  things  proved 
as  the  children  had  hoped  they  would  :  for  it 
was  made  certain  that  Belle's  mamma  had 
been  Mrs.  Bradford's  friend  of  bygone  days  ; 
and  her  papa  being  only  too  thankful  for  the 
interest  and  sympathy  the  lady  showed  for 


Schoolmates.  105 

his  lonely  little  child,  and  that  Belle  should 
have  as  companions  and  playmates  our  well- 
behaved  and  ladylike  Maggie  ind  Bessie,  the 
three  children  became  verj  nearly  what 
Maggie  had  desired,  — 


\r. 

THE    PRIZES. 

jAGGIE  and  Bessie  had  been  going  to 
school  about  a  week,  when  one  morn- 
ing Miss  Ashton  said  she  wished  all 
her  little  scholars,  except  Bessie,  Belle,  and 
Carrie  Ransom,  to  write  a  short  composition 
for  her.  This  was  received  with  some  very 
long  faces,  and  a  good  many  ohs !  and  ahs  !  of 
which  Miss  Ashton  took  no  nn'i^n.  Maggie 
and  Gracie  were  the  only  two  \\lio  seemed 
to  be  pleased  with  the  prospect.  Maggie, 
as  we  know,  had  been  accustomed  to  com- 
posing a  little.  Her  "  History  of  the 
Complete  Family  "  had  been  of  great  use  to 
her  in  this,  as  well  as  her  habit  of  writing 
letters  to  her  friends  whenever  she  found  an 
opportunity.  So  she  looked  upon  Miss 
Alton's  order  more  as  a  pleasant  pastime 


The  Prizes.  107 

than  as  a  task ;  and  she  and  Gracie  Howard, 
who  was  also  a  good  writer  and  fond  of  com- 
position, seized  upon  their  slates  and  pencils 
tvith  great  satisfaction. 

Miss  Ashton  said  each  child  might  lake  as  a 
subject  the  history  of  yesterday,  and  tell 
what  she  had  done  or  what  happened  to  her ; 
that  she  would  give  them  half  an  hour,  and 
at  the  end  of  that  time  they  must  all  hand  her 
something,  even  if  it  were  only  a  few  lines ; 
but  she  trusted  each  little  girl  to  do  her  best. 

"  Miss  Ashton,"  said  Bessie,  "  could  not  I 
make  a  little  composition  too  ?  I  can't  write, 
but  I  can  print  it." 

"  No,  dear,"  answered  Miss  Ashton,  "  you 
have  had  enough  study  for  to-day." 

"  But  composition  is  not  study,"  said  Bessie, 
fretfully ;  "  and  I  want  to  do  it,  if  Maggie  does. 
I  think  I  might ;  "  and  Bessie's  lips  looked 
rather  pouty. 

"  Bessie,"  said  her  teacher,  "  what  was  the 
bargain  you  and  I  made  with  your  mamma  ?  " 

The  child's  face  cleared  instantly,  and,  in 


io8  Bessie  at  School. 

her  own  demure  little  way,  she  said,  "  Oh,  I 
did  forget,  Miss  Ashton  !  Thank  you,  for  put- 
ting me  in  mind.  I'm  'fraid  you're  disap- 
pointed in  me  to  do  a  thing  like  that." 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  smiling :  "  I  do 
not  expect  any  of  my  little  scholars  to  be  per- 
fect; and  I  am  satisfied,  if  when  they  feel 
wrong,  and  are  told  of  it,  they  try  at  once  to 
correct  the  naughty  feeling.  But  now  we  four 
must  keep  quiet,  and  not  disturb  the  others 
while  they  are  writing.  Bring  your  slatea 
here,  and  we  will  have  a  drawing-lesson." 

The  three  little  girls  soon  gathered  about 
her,  and,  lifting  Bessie  upon  her  lap,  she  made 
Belle  and  Carrie  stand  on  either  side,  and  told 
them  they  were  all  to  try  who  could  draw  the 
best  cow.  She  would  try  herself. 

In  a  few  moments,  the  three  children  had 
finished ;  Miss  Ashton  had  done  first,  and  the 
four  slates  were  compared.  There  could  be 
no  doubt  that  Miss  Ashton's  cow  was  decidedly 
the  best.  That  they  had  expected,  but  each 
child  had  hoped  her  own  might  be  the  next 


The  Prizes. 


109 


best.  Carrie  was  not  disappointed,  her  cow 
was  pretty  fair ;  but  those  drawn  by  Belle  and 
Bessie  were  very  extraordinary  looking  ani- 
mals ;  Bessie's,  especially.  In  fact,  it  looked 
like  nothing  so  little  as  a  cow,  and  might  rath- 
er have  been  taken  for  a  table  with  four  crooked 
legs  going  down,  and  three  still  more  crooked 
sprawling  in  the  air.  The  first  four  were  sup- 
posed to  be  the  legs  of  the  creature  ;  the  last 
three,  her  horns  and  tail. 

"Oh,  what  a  cow  !  "  said  Carrie :  "  she 
hasn't  even  a  head." 

Bessie  hastily  drew  a  round  0  for  a  head, 
which  did  not  improve  the  cow,  but  made  her 
look  funnier  than  ever;  and  Carrie  saying, 
"  What  a  looking  thing !  "  went  off  into  a  fit 
of  laughter. 

Bessie  flushed  up  angrily,  stretched  out  her 
hand  towards  Carrie's  slate,  and  in  another 
moment  the  drawing  would  have  been  wiped 
from  it,  when,  before  Miss  Ashton  could  speak, 
she  drew  the  hand  back,  and  said  in  a  gentle 
but  grieved  voice,  "  I  did  it  as  good  as  I  knew 
how." 


no  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Yes,"  said  Belle,  firing  up  in  defence  of 
her  "  inseparable,"  and  casting  a  scornful 
glance  at  Carrie's  slate ;  "  and  her  cow  is  a 
great  deal  prettier  than  yours,  Carrie,  and  she 
is  a  great  deal  better  than  you." 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  laying  her  head  with  a 
penitent  little  sigh  against  Miss  Ashton's 
shoulder,  "  hers  is  the  best,  Belle :  mine  is  not 
half  so  good." 

"  But  you  say  you  did  the  best  you  could," 
said  Miss  Ash  ton,  tenderly  smoothing  down 
the  curls  on  the  dear  little  head. 

"  Yes,  I  truly  did,"  said  Bessie. 

"  And,  Carrie,  did  you  do  your  best 
too?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Carrie. 

"  And  Belle  ?  "  said  Miss  Ashton. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Belle. 

"  So  did  I,"  said  their  teacher ;  "  and  none 
of  us  can  do  more." 

"  I  think,  maybe,  I  could  make  a  little  bet- 
ter one  if  I  was  to  try  hard,"  said  Belle. 

"  Then  you  may  all  try  again  ;  and  since  yon 


The  Prizes.  Ill 

agree  that  my  cow  is  the  best,  you  can  take 
her  for  a  pattern." 

So  they  all  tried  to  make  one  like  Miss  Ash 
ton's.  Carrie's  was  much  like  her  first  attempt, 
neither  better  nor  worse ;  but  in  Bessie's 
and  Belle's,  a  great  improvement  was  to 
be  seen. 

Before  the  half  hour  was  up,  Maggie  and 
Gracie  had  finished  their  compositions,  and 
laid  down  their  slates,  but  some  of  the  chil- 
dren were  still  poring  over  theirs,  having  very 
little  written.  At  last,  Miss  Ashton  said  the 
time  was  up,  and  sent  Belle  to  collect  the 
slates,  saying  she  should  read  the  composi- 
tions aloud. 

Some  were  very  well  done ;  Maggie's  and 
Grade's  the  two  best ;  but  with  some  it  was 
plainly  to  be  seen  that  the  young  writers  had 
taken  little  or  no  pains.  One  little  girl  had 
written  only,  — 

"  I  got  up,  and  I  staid  up  till  I  went  to  bed., 
That  is  all  I  know."  At  which,  when  it  was 
read  out,  the  other  children  laughed  ;  but  the 


112  Bessie  at  School* 

little  girl  herself  felt  rather  ashamed,  and 
wished  she  had  tried  to  do  better. 

But  Miss  Ashton  found  no  fault,  laying  each 
slate  aside  without  remark,  and  when  she  was 
through,  and  it  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock,  said 
that  her  uncle  wished  to  say  a  few  words  to 
all  the  school.  Then  the  folding-doors  were 
opened,  and  presently  a  white-haired  old  gen- 
tleman walked  in,  and  stood  at  Mrs.  Ashton's 
table. 

He  was  as  pleasant-looking  an  old  gentle- 
man as  it  would  be  easy  to  find,  with  a  merry 
twinkle  in  his  eye,  and  a  kind  smile  on  his 
lips ;  and  when  he  spoke,  it  was  in  a  hearty, 
cheery  voice  that  it  did  one  good  to  hear. 

"  My  dear  children,"  he  began,  "  I  do  not 
mean  to  keep  you  long,  for  school-hours  are 
about  over,  and  I  suppose  you  would  rather  be 
at  your  play  than  listening  to  an  old  man. 
God  has  not  given  me  any  children  of  my  own, 
but  I  love  all  the  young  folks,  and  like  to  make 
them  happy,  and  to  help  them  along  in  any 
way  I  can.  Now  I  have  a  plan  to  propose  to 


The  Prizes.  113 

you,  and  it  is  this.  I  will  give  five  prizes  on 
the  first  of  next  May.  Two  will  be  for  com- 
position, one  for  each  class,  to  be  given  to  the 
young  lady,  or  little  girl,  who  shall  produce  the 
best  composition,  the  subject  to  be  chosen  by 
herself.  The  next  two  will  be  for  general  good 
standing  in  the  classes,  perfect  lessons,  and 
punctual  attendance,  &c.  All  these,  of  course, 
will  be  bestowed  according  to  the  judgment  of 
your  teachers,  and  the  number  of  your  good 
marks.  But  the  fifth  and  last  prize,  and  the 
one  which  I  consider  the  most  important,  will 
be  given,  according  to  the  choice  of  the  schol- 
ars of  both  classes,  to  her  who  has  proved 
herself  the  most  obedient,  truthful,  and  un- 
selfish among  you ;  in  short,  to  her  who  shows 
in  her  life  and  conduct  that  she  remembers 
and  practises  the  two  great  commandments 
which  our  Saviour  gave  us ;  viz.,  '  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart, 
and  with  all  thy  soul,  and  with  all  thy  strength ; 
and  the  second  is  like  unto  it,  Thou  shalt 
lore  thy  neighbor  as  thyself.'  You  shalJ 
8 


H4  Bessie  at  School. 

yourselves  say  to  whom  this  is  due,  who  has 
best  proved  that  she  has  the  fear  of  God  and 
the  love  of  her  neighbor  in  her  heart,  and  be- 
fore her  eyes.  And  since  I  believe  that  such 
a  child  will  rejoice  in  the  power  of  doing  good 
to  others,  I  will  tell  you  what  I  mean  to  offer 
as  a  reward. 

"  In  a  .certain  hospital  at  a  short  distance 
from  this  city,  where  little  deformed  children 
and  cripples  are  nursed  and  cared  for,  and 
often  cured,  I  own  a  bed.  That  is,  I  pay  for 
its  use,  and  it  is  occupied  by  any  needy  child 
whom  I  may  choose  to  send  there.  At  pres- 
ent, it  is  taken  up  by  a  little  girl  who 
has  been  in  the  hospital  for  two  years,  and 
who  was  dreadfully  lame  when  she  went 
there.  Now  she  is  so  nearly  cured  that  she 
walks  without  her  crutches,  and  the  doctors 
say  that  by  the  spring  she  will  be  quito 
well. 

"  When  she  goes  away,  her  place  will  be 
ready  for  some  other  poor  child  who  may 
need  such  care  as  she  has  had ;  and  to  the 


The  Prizes.  115 

girl  whom  the  voice  of  her  schoolmates  say 
has  earned  the  right  to  it,  shall  be  given  the 
choice  of  its  next  occupant.  Do  you  under- 
stand me,  little  ones  ?  This  bed,  with  all  the 
comforts  and  kind  care  which  belong  to  it, 
shall  be  given  to  any  crippled  child  named  by 
the  girl  who  shall  first  be  chosen  by  the  whole 
school  as  the  most  deserving  of  the  pleasure. 
Perhaps  some  among  you  may  not  know  any 
one,  at  present,  who  stands  in  need  of  it ;  but 
if  you  will  make  inquiries  among  your  friends, 
I  think  you  cannot  fail  to  find  some  poor 
child  to  whom  it  will  be  a  great  blessing. 
And  now,  I  will  keep  you  no  longer,  but  say 
good-by  to  you,  hoping  to  meet  you  all  here 
in  the  spring,  and  that  you  will  all  do  so  well 
that  we  shall  have  a  great  deal  of  trouble  in 
deciding  who  are  to  receive  the  prizes." 

To  describe  the  buzz  of  tongues,  the  ex- 
clamations, wonderings,  and  questionings  thai 
followed  as  soon  as  Mr.  Ashton  had  gone. 
would  be  quite  impossible.  It  was  twelve 
o'clock,  and  two  or  three  nurses  were  waiting 


n6  Bessie  at  School. 

in  the  cloak-room  for  their  little  charges  ;  but 
they  found  it  hard  work  to  coax  them  away. 
Miss  Ashton  had  gone  downstairs  with  her 
uncle  and  mother,  kindly  giving  Maggie  a  few 
minutes  to  talk  off  her  excitement  before  she 
called  her  to  her  music-lesson,  which  she 
knew  would  meet  with  small  attention  just  at 
present. 

"  Oh !  I  hope,  I  hope,  I  do  hope  I  shall 
gain  a  prize,"  said  Maggie,  clapping  her  hands, 
jumping  about,  and  uttering  each  succeeding 
"  hope "  with  more  and  more  energy.  "  I 
must  have  one.  Oh,  I  must !  " 

"  Which  one  do  you  mean  to  try  for, 
Maggie  ?  "  asked  Nellie  Ransom. 

"  I  suppose  I  ought  to  wish  most  for  the 
one  for  the  lame  child,"  said  Maggie,  pausing 
in  her  antics  and  looking  thoughtful ;  "  but 
I'm  afraid  I  don't,  so  that's  a  sure  sign  I 
should  not  deserve  to  have  it.  No,  I'd  never 
get  it ;  for  I  know  I  should  not  be  the  best 
child  in  the  school.  But  I  think  maybe  I 
could  earn  one  of  the  others,  and  I  will  try 


The  Prizes.  117 

for  both ;  but  most  of  all  I'd  rather  have  the 
one  for  composition.  Tf  I  knew  any  one  who 
would  like  to  go  to  the  hospital,  I'd  try  for 
that;  but  I  don't." 

"  0  Maggie  !  "  said  Bessie,  "  don't  you  re- 
member Jemmy  Bent  ? " 

"  Why,  to  be  sure,"  said  Maggie.  "  Well, 
I'm  just  glad  enough  Jemmy  did  not  hear  me 
say  that.  He  would  think  me  too  unkind  to 
go  and  forget  him.  But,  any  way,  I  know  I'd 
never  earn  that  prize.  I  shall  just  do  every 
thing  in  the  world  to  get  the  composition 
one." 

"  So  shall  I,"  said  Gracie  ;  "  and  I  hope  I'll 
be  the  one." 

"I'm  going  to  try  too,"  said  Dora  John- 
son ;  "  but  only  one  of  us  can  have  it.  So  all 
the  rest  will  have  to  be  disappointed." 

"  Oh,  dear ! "  said  Maggie,  "  I  didn't  think 
about  that.  I'll  be  very  sorry  to  have  you  al? 
disappointed." 

"  You  seem  to  be  very  sure  you'll  get  it,* 
said  Fanny  Leroy,  rather  snappishly. 


ri8  Bessie  at  School. 

Maggie  colored. 

"Well,  I  did  feel  'most  sure,"  she  said 
"  I  only  thought  about  trying  very  hard  to 
earn  it,  and  I  forgot  all  the  rest  wanted  it  too, 
and  were  going  to  try." 

"  But  I  think  you'll  be  the  one  to  have  it, 
Maggie,"  said  Bessie. 

u  Well,  little  mouse,"  said  Kate  Maynard, 
dancing  in,  catching  up  Bessie,  and  carrying 
her  off  to  the  other  room,  where  she  seated 
the  child  on  her  desk,  and  took  a  chair  in 
front  of  her.  "  Well,  little  mouse,  and  what 
makes  you  so  sure  Maggie  will  get  the  compo 
sition  prize  for  the  other  room  ?  " 

"  She  wants  it  so  very  much,  and  is  going 
to  try  so  hard,"  said  Bessie. 

"  But,  as  Maggie  just  said  herself,  all  tne 
others  want  it  too,  and  mean  to  try." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  smiling  back  into  the 
merry  black  eyes ;  "  but  my  Maggie  is  very 
smart.  She  has  a  great  deal  of  make  up  in 
her,  and  can  tell  such  beautiful  stories  all  out 
of  her  own  head,  and  she  can  write  them  too.' 


The  Prizes. 


119 


"  Come  here,  Maggie,"  said  Kate,  as  the 
child,  whose  classmates  were  leaving,  peeped 
around  the  door  for  Bessie.  "  Come  here :  I 
want  to  have  a  little  talk  with  you  about  these 
prizes." 

Maggie  came  slowly  forward. 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  mean  to  come  when 
you  are  called  up  to  get  the  composition 
prize  ? "  said  Kate.  "  Hurry  up,  tortoise,  or 
you  won't  be  here  before  recess  is  over." 

At  this,  Maggie  turned  about  as  if  she 
would  have  run  away ;  but  two  of  the  larger 
girls  caught  her,  and  drew  her  over  to  Kate's 
desk. 

"  What  are  you  afraid  of,  dear  ? "  asked 
Kate,  as  Julia  Grafton  lifted  the  blushing 
child  to  her  knee,  and  held  her  fast.  "  What 
is  the  reason  you  don't  like  me  ?  " 

Maggie  made  no  answer,  except  by  wriggling 
her  head  and  shoulders,  and  putting  up  both 
arms,  so  as  to  cover  her  face  as  much  as 
possible. 

"Miss  Kate,"  said  Bessie,  gravely,  "you 


I2O  Bessie  at  School. 

could  not  'spect  Maggie  to  be  very  fond  of 
you." 

"Why  not?"  asked  the  laughing  Kate. 
"  You  are  very  fond  of  me,  are  you  not  ?  " 

"Not  much,"  said  Bessie.  "But  I'd  be 
fond  of  you,  if  you  did  not  tease  my  Maggie. 
I  shouldn't  think  you'd  like  to  be  such  a 
trouble  to  any  one,  Miss  Kate." 

"  I  should  like  to  know  how  I  am  a  trouble 
to  her,"  said  Kate. 

"  You  look  at  her." 

"  Look  at  her !  "  exclaimed  Kate ;  "  and  is 
Maggie  not  to  be  looked  at  ?  Why,  I  look  at 
you  too,  mousie;  but  you  do  not  seem  to 
mind  it." 

"  You  don't  look  at  me  that  way,"  said 
Bessie,  feeling  quite  sure  that  Kate  under- 
stood what  she  meant.  "  When  the  doors 
are  open,  you  look  at  Maggie  in  a  way  to  tease 
her,  and  make  her  miss  her  lessons.  The 
other  day  you  made  her  miss  three  times." 

"  Pshaw !  that's  nonsense,"  said  Kate,  half- 
vexed,  half-amused. 


The  Prizes.  1 21 

"  You  did,"  said  Maggie,  taking  down  her 
arms,  the  sense  of  her  wrongs  overcoming 
her  bashfulness.  "  That  was  a  very  hard 
lesson,  but  I  knew  it  quite  well,  but  I  could 
not  say  it  when  you  stared  at  me,  and  shook 
your  head  at  me,  and  laughed  at  me ;  and  I 
missed  and  missed,  so  I  had  to  go  down  foot, 
and  I  was  next  to  head  before.  And  it  wasn't 
my  fault,  and  it's  too  bad,  now ! "  and  the 
tears  welled  up  to  poor  Maggie's  eyes. 

"  So  it  was,  Maggie,"  said  Miss  Maynard ; 
"  and  I  am  truly  sorry.  I  did  not  think,  but 
I  promise  not  to  do  so  any  more.  Will  you 
kiss,  and  be  friends?" 

Forgiving  little  Maggie  was  quite  willing, 
and  the  treaty  was  sealed  with  a  kiss ;  the 
child  feeling  more  relieved  than  Kate  would 
have  thought  possible,  at  the  thought  that 
those  mischievous  eyes  would  iiot  work  her 
any  more  trouble. 

"Maggie,  come  to  your  music,  dear,"  said 
Miss  Ashton's  voice  at  the  door. 

" There,  now!  Miss  Ashtou  will  see  she  has 


r22  Bessie  at  School. 

l~>«en  crying,  and  I  shall  get  into  trouble,"  said 
Kate. 

"  Maggie  will  not  say  any  thing  about  it,  if 
she  can  help  it,"  said  Bessie.  "  She  never  tells 
talcs.  Mamma  has  brought  us  up  not  to." 

"  What  a  wise  mamma !  "  said  Julia,  laugh 
ing.  "  But  did  not  Maggie  tell  Miss  Ashton 
the  day  Kate  made  her  miss." 

"  No,"  said  Bessie :  "  she  did  not  tell  any 
one  but  mamma.  We  have  to  tell  her  all  our 
troubles,  you  know." 

"  But  about  these  prizes,  Bessie,"  said  Kate. 
"  Since  you  <  have  to  be  rather  lazy,'  I  suppose 
you  do  not  hope  to  gain  any." 

"  I  know  mamma  would   not  like  me   to 
study  so  much  as  to  gain  the  composition  or 
perfect-lesson  prize,"  said  Bessie,  "  so  I  did 
not  think  much  about  those,  'cept  for  Maggie 
but "  — 

"  But  what  ?  "  said  Julia,  as  the  child  hesi- 
tated. "  Have  you  a  hope  of  winning  the 
other  from  the  whole  school,  by  being  the  best 
girl  in  it?" 


The  Prizes.  123 

" Not  such  a  very  hope"  said  Bessie ;  " but 
oh !  I  do  wish  so  very,  very  much  that  Maggie 
or  I  could  have  it.  I'd  just  as  lief  she'd  have 
it,  'cause  we'd  both  do  the  same  with  it." 

"  Then  you  know  some  child  to  whom  you 
wish  to  give  the  bed  in  the  hospital  ?  "  asked 
Kate. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie ;  "  and  he  deserves  it 
very  much.  He  is  such  a  good  boy,  Miss 
Kate.  If  he  had  to  earn  it  for  himself,  I 
know  he'd  get  it.  He  is  a  great  deal  better 
than  any  one  in  this  school." 

"  There's  a  compliment  for  us,"  said  Fanny 
Berry. 

"  And  he  is  a  cripple,  is  he  ?  "  said  Kate. 

"  Yes'm ;  shall  I  tell  you  about  him  ?  " 

"  Of  course,"  answered  Kate. 

"  His  name  is  Jemmy  Bent,"  said  Bessie , 
"  and,  a  good  while  ago,  he  fell  off  a  stone  wall, 
and  hurt  his  back  very  much,  so  he  had  to  lie 
in  bed  all  the  time.  He  and  his  mother  and 
his  sister  Mary  live  in  a  little  red  house  by 
the  creek  that  is  near  Riverside,  where  Grand- 


124  Bessie  at  School. 

papa  Duncan  lives ;  and  grandpapa  and  Aunt 
Helen  are  very  good  to  him ;  and  his  mother 
wanted  to  buy  a  wheel-chair,  so  that  he  could 
be  out  in  the  nice  air  and  sun ;  but  she  was 
too  poor,  and  grandpapa  let  Maggie  and  me 
earn  the  chair  for  him.  And  since  he  had  the 
chair,  he  has  been  better  and  stronger;  and 
grandpapa  thought  if  he  could  go  where  he 
would  have  very  good  care,  perhaps  he  might 
be  made  quite  well.  So  he  took  a  doctor,  who 
knew  a  great  deal,  to  see  Jemmy ;  and  the 
doctor  said  he  never  would  be  very  well,  but 
he  thought  he  could  be  cured  so  much  that  he 
could  go  about  on  crutches.  But  he  said  he 
must  have  care  all  the  time,  and  be  where 
he  could  be  'tended  to  every  day.  But  he  said 
he  ought  not  to  be  brought  to  the  city,  'cause 
he  was  used  to  living  in  the  country,  and  it 
was  better  for  him.  So  grandpapa  wanted  to 
put  him  into  a  country  hospital,  where  they 
take  lame  children,  maybe  it  was  the  very  one 
the  prize  gentleman  told  us  about ;  but  it  was 
so  full  they  had  no  room  for  Jemmy.  So  he 


The  Prizes.  125 

has  to  wait,  and  Maggie  and  I  were  very 
sorry  about  it.  But  Jemmy  did  not  know 
what  grandpapa  tried  to  do,  so  he  was  not 
disappointed.  It  would  be  a  very  happy  thing 
for  Jemmy  if  he  could  ever  be  so  well  as  to 
walk  on  crutches,  for  now  he  has  to  be  wheeled 
about  in  his  chair,  and  cannot  take  one  step 
on  his  feet." 

"  And  he  is  such  a  very  good  boy,  is  he  ?" 
said  Kate,  when  Bessie,  having  talked  herself 
out  of  breath,  came  to  a  pause. 

"  Oh,  yes  !  "  said  the  child :  "  you  could  not 
find  an  excellenter  boy  anywhere,  I'm  sure. 
He's  so  patient,  and  so  happy ;  and  he  never 
frets  or  is  cross,  though  he  has  a  great  deal  of 
pain  to  bear.  And  if  he's  tired  of  being  in 
one  place,  he  cannot  move  himself,  but  has  to 
wait  till  some  one  comes  to  roll  his  chair. 
Sometimes  he  and  his  mother  and  sister  used 
to  be  hungry  too,  and  did  not  have  enough 
bread  to  eat ;  and  do  you  b'lieve,  not  a  bit  of 
butter  on  it !  But  Aunt  Helen  found  that  out, 


126  Bessie  at  School. 

and  she  takes  care  of  them  now,  and  finda 
work  for  Mrs.  Bent  and  Mary,  so  they  need 
never  be  hungry  any  more,  or  cold  either. 
And  mamma  helps  them  too ;  so  they're  rather 
com'fable  now." 

"  Your  Jemmy  seems  to  have  found  good 
friends,"  said  Kate.  "  And  so  you  and  Mag- 
gie earned  his  easy-chair  for  him;  and  now 
you  want  to  earn  this  hospital-bed  for  him,  do 
you?" 

"  Oh,  so  much !  "  The  tone  said  as  much 
as  the  words,  as  did  the  glowing  cheeks  and 
wistful  eyes.  There  could  be  no  doubt  that 
the  wish  was  heartfelt ;  and  Kate,  taking  the 
earnest  little  face  between  her  hands,  kissed 
it  warmly,  and  said, — 

"You're  a  darling,  and  Maggie's  another. 
I  think  your  mother  has  a  pair  of  you." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  innocently  ;  "  and  there 
are  two  more  pair  of  us,  Harry  and  Fred,  and 
Frankie  and  baby." 

The  girls  laughed  again ;  and  Kate,  catching 


The  Prizes.  127 

the  child  up  in  her  arms,  began  to  dance  with 
her  about  the  room,  which  was  the  signal  for  a 
general  frolic  that  lasted  till  Jane  came  to  take 
the  children  home. 


VI. 


BELLE. 

j|ES,  indeed,  mamma !  I  must,  I  must, 
have  that  prize  for  composition," 
said  Maggie,  after  she  and  Bessie 
had  told  their  mother  of  all  the  events  of  the 
morning. 

"  And  do  all  the  others  think  they  must 
have  it  too,  MaggLi 

"  Well,  yes,  mamma  i  believe  they  do ;  at 
least  most  of  them  want  it  very  much,  and 
Gracie  and  Fanny  Leroy  are  very  anxious  for 
it.  We  were  talking  a  little  about  it,  before  I 
went  to  my  music-lesson  ;  and  when  Dora  put 
us  in  mind  that  all  but  one  would  have  to  be 
disappointed,  somehow  I  did  not  feel  so  very 
happy  about  it.  But  I  do  not  feel  as  if  I  could 
give  up  trying  for  it.  Do  you  think  it  is  self- 
ish in  me,  mamma  ?  " 


Belle, 

"  No,  love,  not  at  all.  So  long  as  you  are 
willing  that  the  others  should  have  an  equal 
chance  with  yourself,  and  take  no  unfair  advan- 
tage of  them ;  and  that,  I  am  sure,  my  Maggie 
would  not  do." 

"No,  indeed,  mamma :  I  hope  I  would  never 
be  so  mean.  Then  you  think  it  is  quite  right 
for  me  to  try  for  the  prize  ?  " 

"  Yes,  dear.  God  has  given  to  each  one  of 
as  certain  powers  or  talents  which  He  means 
us  to  use  for  His  service  and  our  own  improve- 
ment. Only  let  us  be  sure  '  whatsoever  we  do, 
to  do  it  to  the  glory  of  God/  and  not  simply 
to  gain  some  praise  or  some  fancied  good  for 
ourselves.  For  although  we  may  succeed  even 
with  such  a  motive,  yet  it  will  not  bring  a 
blessing.  Do  your  very  best,  not  with  the 
sole  purpose  of  being  first,  or  of  carrying  away 
the  prize  from  others,  but  that  you  may  please 
your  Father  in  Heaven,  and  make  the  most  of 
the  opportunities  He  has  given  you.  Then 
you  will  be  sure  of  the  best  of  rewards,  that  of 
a  good  conscience,  and  the  smile  of  God  ;  arid 

9 


130  Bessie  at  School. 

if  the  earthly  reward  is  won  too,  well  and 
good,  but  that  is  not  the  chief  thing." 

"  But  I'm  afraid  I  did  think  it  was  the  chief 
thing,"  said  Maggie,  gravely  shaking  her  head  ; 
"  and  I'm  afraid  the  reason  I  would  like  the 
prize  so  much,  was  because  I  wanted  every 
one  to  say  I  made  the  best  composition.  1 
don't  think  I  thought  a  bit  about  glorifying 
God.  Mamma,  I  hope  you  do  not  think  I  had 
better  not  try  for  the  prize." 

"  Not  at  all,  dear,"  said  her  mother.  "  1 
should  be  very  sorry  if  you  did  not  try  to  gain 
it.  Do  your  very  best,  only  do  it  with  love  to 
God  and  your  neighbor ;  not  feeling  jealous  or 
envious  if  another  does  better,  or  too  much 
puffed  up  if  you  should  be  the  one  to  receive 
the  prize." 

"  Well,  I  will  try  not  to  be  too  very  anxious 
about  it,  mamma,"  said  Maggie. 

But  Maggie  was  very  anxious  about  this 
prize  ;  so  anxious,  so  bent  upon  gaining  it, 
that  her  mother  was  almost  sorry  it  had  been 
offered  by  Miss  Ashton's  uncle.  Morning, 


Belle.  131 

noon,  and  night,  it  seemed  to  be  upon  her 
mind :  every  thing  that  pleased  or  interested 
her  was  talked  over  as  "  a  subject ; "  and  Mrs. 
Bradford  was  not  a  little  amused  one  day  to 
find  in  Maggie's  room  the  following :  — 

"LIST  OF  PRIZE  SUBJECTS. 

**  Angels ; 
Elephants ; 
Doing  unto  Others ; 
Potry; 

Mind  your  own  Business ; 
A  Fabel ; 
Sunset ; 
Dolls ; 
Churches ; 
Vegitables ; 
School ; 
A  Letter ; 
A  Story; 
Christmas ; 
What  can't  be  cured,  must  be  endured." 

It  had  been  arranged,  that  the  prize  papers 
were  not  to  be  begun  before  the  1st  of  April, 
but  that  meanwhile  the  children  were  to  do  all 


132  Bessie  at  School. 

they  could  to  improve  themselves,  not  only  in 
composing,  but  also  in  writing  and  spelling. 
Miss  Ashton  gave  them  a  composition  to  write 
during  school-hours,  one  day  in  each  week ; 
but  this  did  not  satisfy  Maggie,  and  at  home 
she  was  constantly  scribbling,  and  reading 
aloud  her  productions  to  the  admiring  Bessie, 
till  her  mamma,  who  thought  she  was  too  much 
faken  up  with  it,  and  that  she  scarcely  gave 
herself  time  enough  for  play  in  her  excitement 
and  anxiety,  forbade  her  to  write  more  than 
half  an  hour  each  day,  whether  in  school  or 
at  home ;  and  this  in  spite  of  Maggie's  plea 
that  she  was  "  only  exercising  her  ideas." 

So  the  days  and  weeks  passed  by,  bringing 
nearer  the  Christmas  holidays,  when  there 
would  be  no  school  for  a  fortnight ;  and  about 
this  time  a  very  pleasant  thing  happened  to 
our  two  little  girls,  and  their  new  friend  Belle. 

As  you  were  told  before,  the  three  children 
had  become  very  intimate,  Belle  being  often 
invited  to  pass  the  day  with  Maggie  and  Bes- 
sie ;  and  she  dearly  loved  to  go.  Colonel  and 


Belle.  133 

Mrs.  Rush,  with  whom  the  children  had 
"  brought  her  acquainted,"  took  a  great  inter- 
est in  her,  and  sometimes,  when  Maggie  and 
Bessie  came  to  see  them,  would  send  over  to 
Mr.  Powers'  rooms  for  Belle  to  come  and  join 
her  young  playmates. 

She  was  a  sweet-tempered  and  truthful  child  ; 
but  she  was  not  as  obedient  as  Mrs.  Bradford's 
little  girls,  and  was  in  some  things  rather 
spoiled.  She  would  argue  and  fret  when  told 
to  do  a  thing  which  did  not  suit  her,  and  some- 
times she  would  deliberately  disobey.  Her 
mother  had  been  ill  for  a  long  time  before  her 
death,  and  not  able  to  do  much  for  her  child ; 
and  her  father,  perhaps,  humored  her  more 
than  was  good  for  her,  so  that  Belle  had  not 
had  much  training,  and  generally  thought  her 
own  way  was  quite  as  wise  and  safe  as  that  of 
older  people.  Mr.  Powers  himself  became 
fond  of  dropping  in  at  the  Bradfords'  pleas- 
ant home  where  he  always  found  a  warm 
welcome. 

One   day,  shortly  before  Christmas,  Belle 


134  Bessie  at  School. 

went  home  from  school  with  Maggie  and  Bes- 
sie, and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  with  them, 
and  in  the  evening  her  father  came  to  take  her 
home.  He  sat  down  in  the  library  with  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bradford,  while  the  three  little  girls 
in  the  other  room  were  talking  over  some  very 
important  holiday  arrangements. 

"  I  fear  my  poor  pet  will  not  wear  as  bright 
a  face  to-morrow  as  she  does  to-day,"  said  Mr. 
Powers,  as  he  looked  through  the  open  doors 
at  the  happy  little  ones. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bradford :  "  there  is 
no  trouble  in  store  for  her,  I  hope." 

Mr.  Powers  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"  Yes,"  he  said  :  "  I  shall  have  to  leave  her 
for  a  while  ;  and,  what  is  more,  so  will  Daphne, 
her  old  nurse.  Daphne's  son  is  very  ill  in 
Savannah,  and  the  old  woman,  of  course,  is 
most  anxious  to  see  him  before  he  dies.  Slie 
is  too  helpless  and  ignorant  to  be  allowed  to 
go  alone  ;  and,  as  I  have  business  in  Savannah 
which  must  have  taken  me  South  in  a  few 
weeks,  I  shall  go  a  little  sooner,  and  see  Daj»h-" 


Belle.  135 

ne  safely  there.  But  we  must  travel  da}  and 
uight,  if  we  are  to  be  in  time ;  and  such  a 
journey  would  be  too  much  for  my  poor  baby. 
I  shall  be  forced  to  leave  her  behind,  and  it 
will  go  near  to  break  her  little  heart.  We 
must  start  to-morrow  at  noon,  and  I  shall  have 
to  tell  her  in  the  morning." 

"  But  what  do  you  mean  to  do  with  her  V  " 
asked  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  To  leave  her  with  Miss  Ashton,  if  she  will 
take  charge  of  her,  as  I  think  she  will.  I  shall 
go  and  see  her  this  evening  after  I  have  taken 
Belle  home.  She  will  be  well  cared  for  there, 
I  am  sure." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford  ;  "  but  I  fear  she 
will  be  very  lonely  after  school-hours  are  over. 
There  are  only  Miss  Ashton  and  her  mother ; 
and,  though  I  do  not  doubt  she  would  receive 
every  kindness,  it  will  be  dull  for  the  little 
thing.  Suppose  you  let  her  come  to  us :  she 
will  bear  your  absence  better  if  she  .s  with 
our  children  whom  she  is  fond  of." 

Mr.  Powers'  melancholy  face  lighted  up  with 


136  Bessie  at  School. 

pleasure ;  but  the  next  moment  he  shook  hia 
head  doubtfully. 

"  It  would  be  the  very  thing  for  her,"  he 
said,  "  but  quite  too  much  to  ask  from  you. 
You  are  not  strong  yet,  and  it  would  not  be 
right  to  give  you  the  charge  of  another  child." 

But  Mrs.  Bradford  would  not  listen  to  this, 
as  long  as  Mr.  Powers  was  satisfied  to  have 
his  child  with  her.  Belle  was  not  much  trou- 
ble, she  said  ;  and  nurse  and  Jane  would  readily 
do  for  her  as  for  the  others.  So,  after  a  little 
more  talk  it  was  settled,  greatly  to  the  father's 
satisfaction.  Mrs.  Bradford  said  it  would  be 
well  to  tell  Belle  now,  while  she  had  the  other 
children  at  hand  to  console  her,  and  make  her 
feel  she  might  enjoy  herself  even  though  her 
father  and  nurse  were  away;  and  the  little 
girls  were  called  in. 

"  Belle,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  how  would 
you  like  to  come  and  stay  with  Maggie  and 
Bessie  for  a  while  ?  " 

"  What !  do  you  mean  to  stay  all  night  and 
sleep  here  ?  "  said  Belle,  with  wide-open  eyes. 


Belle.  137 

*'Yes,  dear,  for  several  nights,  for  three 
or  four  weeks.  Would  you  not  have  pleasant 
times  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  papa  comes  too,"  said  Belle,  draw- 
ing herself  from  Mrs.  Bradford's  arm,  and 
springing  to  her  father's  knee,  where  she 
clung  to  him,  as  if  she  feared  she  were  to  be 
parted  from  him  by  force. 

"  But  papa  cannot  come  too,  my  precious 
one,"  said  her  father.  "  I  have  to  go  on  a 
journey  ;  and  Mrs.  Bradford  has  kindly  said 
you  may  stay  here  with  her  little  girls,  till  I 
come  back." 

"  I  shall  go  on  a  journey  too :  yes,  I  shall, 
I  shall"  was  Belle's  answer. 

"  But  you  cannot,  darling,"  said  Mr. 
Powers ;  and  then,  as  cheerfully  as  he  could, 
he  told  his  little  girl  why  he  and  Daphne  must 
go  away,  and  what  a  pleasant  arrangement 
had  been  made  for  her  during  their  absence. 

Belle  did  not  make  the  outcry  which  Mrs. 
Bradford  had  expected,  but  every  time  her 
father  paused,  repeated,  "  I  shall  go  a  journey 
too." 


138  Bessie  at  School. 

Poor  child !  she  was  not  accustomed  to  a 
ready  obedience  ;  and  she  knew  that  if  she 
persisted,  she  could  often  carry  her  point  with 
her  father ;  while  he,  feeling  that  this  time,  at 
least,  he  could  not  yield,  feared  each  moment  to 
hear  her  break  out  in  cries  and  sobs  when  she 
found  she  could  not  have  her  own  way.  To 
all  his  coaxings  and  promises,  she  made  the 
one  quiet  but  determined  reply,  though  each 
time  her  voice  became  more  choked. 

But  now  Bessie  came  softly  behind  Mr. 
Powers,  and  gently  trying  to  disengage  one  of 
the  little  hands  which  were  tightly  clasped 
about  his  neck,  said  in  a  low  tone,  — 

"  You  would  not  make  a  trouble  for  your 
papa,  when  you  say  you  are  '  his  little  com- 
fort,' Belle :  would  you  ?  " 

"  I  shall  go  a  journey  with  him,"  said  Belle, 
in  the  same  old  tone. 

"  Oh,  no ! "  said  Maggie,  coming  round  to 
the  other  side  :  "  you  will  stay  here  with  us, 
and  have  such  a  lovely,  lovely  time.  We  are 
a  very  nice  family  to  stay  with,"  she  added 
persuasively. 


Belle.  139 

"  Belle  does  not  doubt  that,  I  believe,"  said 
Mr.  Powers,  smiling  rather  sadly ;  "  but  she 
and  I  have  no  one  but  one  another  to  pet, 
and  it  comes  pretty  hard  to  part,  even  for 
a  time." 

"  But  we  are  going  to  try  and  make  her 
rery,  very  happy,  even  ?f  you  are  away,  sir," 
answered  Bessie.  "  And,  Belle,  next  week 
Christmas  will  be  here,  and  if  you  go  on  a 
journey,  you  will  not  see  our  tree ;  and  we  have 
a  great  many  nice  things  to  do  in  the  holi- 
days." 

"  We  have  some  of  our  presents  to  buy  yet," 
said  Maggie,  "  and  we  want  you  to  help  us, 
and  we  have  money  to  buy  you  a  present 
too ;  and  papa  and  mamma  will  give  you  pres- 
ents if  you  stay :  will  you  not,  mamma  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bradford  said,  "  Certainly  ; "  but  all 
these  promises  only  drew  forth  the  same  an- 
swer. 

"And  we  are  all  to  go  to  Riverside  in 
grandmamma's  sleigh,  and  spend  the  day 
there,"  said  Bessie ;  "  and  you  will  go  too, 


140  Bessie  at  School. 

and  if  there  is  not  enough  of  room,  I  will  let 
you  have  my  place." 

"  Why,  how  much  you  will  have  to  tell  me 
of  when  I  come  back,"  said  Mr.  Powers,  cheer- 
fully. "  You  must  be  sure  and  remember  all 
these  pleasant  things,  so  that  I  may  hear 
about  them." 

"  I  shall  go  a  "  —  began  Belle  ;  but  before 
she  had  time  to  finish  the  old  sentence,  Mag- 
gie broke  in  with,  — 

"  Oh !  she  could  write  to  you  about  them, 
Mr.  Powers.  She  can  make  up  a  letter  every 
day,  and  I  will  write  it  for  her,  and  she  can 
put  it  in  the  lamp-post  herself.  Will  not  that 
be  nice,  Belle  ?  " 

"  I  couldn't  make  up  so  much,"  said  Belle. 

"  Oh,  yes !  you  could  do  enough,"  said 
Maggie.  "  You  could  tell  your  father  you 
was  alive,  any  way,  and  he'll  be  glad  to  know 
that.  Yes,  we'll  send  him  a  letter  every 
day." 

This  proved  to  be  a  most  happy  idea,  and 
was  the  first  thing  which  brought  any  con 


Belle.  141 

eolation  to  poor  little  Belle ;  and  her  father, 
seeing  that  she  was  at  last  interested,  im- 
proved it  by  saying,  — 

"  Dear !  dear  !  I  shall  have  to  leave  behind 
me  quite  a  fortune  in  postage-stamps  to  pay 
for  so  many  letters.  Let  me  see  if  I  have 
enough." 

And  he  pulled  out  his  pocket-book,  and, 
taking  from  it  a  quantity  of  stamps,  began  to 
count  them  over ;  while  Belle,  after  submit- 
ting to  let  Bessie  wipe  the  tears  from  her  eyes, 
watched  him  with  eager  interest,  as  did  the 
two  other  little  girls. 

"  There  is  one  for  the  day  after  to-morrow," 
said  Mr.  Powers.  "  You  will  not  think  it 
worth  while  to  write  to-morrow,  I  sup- 
pose." 

"  Oh,  yes !  I  think  they  had  better  begin  at 
once,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  who  saw  that  this 
writing  of  letters  to  her  papa  was  likely  to 
divert  Belle's  mind  from  her  grief  at  parting 
with  him. 

"  Very  well,"  replied  -Mr.  Powers ;  and  he 


142  Bessie  At  School. 

counted  out  a  postaga-stamp  for  each  day  as 
far  as  his  stock  would  go.  "  Here  are  only 
enough  for  two  weeks.  We  shall  have  to 
stop  and  buy  some  as  we  go  home,  Belle." 

"  And  here,  Belle,"  said  Bessie,  "  you  may 
have  this  box  of  mine  to  keep  them  in.  You 
may  have  it  for  your  very  own  to  keep  all 
your  life." 

"  And  you  will  write  her  letters  for  her  : 
will  you,  Maggie  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Powers. 

"  Yes,  sir.  Mamma  lets  me  have  half  an 
hour  for  writing  every  day,  and  I  will  give  it 
to  Belle." 

Mrs.  Bradford  vf  as  glad  to  hear  Maggie  say 
this.  She  had  feared  that  the  little  girl  was 
too  eager  and  anxious  for  the  composition 
prize ;  but  this  proved  that  the  desire  for  it 
had  not  made  her  selfish,  and  that  she  was 
willing  to  lessen  her  chances  for  it  for  the 
sake  of  being  a  help  and  comfort  to  her  moth- 
erless little  friend.  She  did  not  tell  Maggio 
that  she  might  still  "  exercise  her  ideas " 
during  the  allowed  half-hour,  and  take  some 


Belle.  143 

other  time  for  writing  Belle's  letters.  Since 
the  dear  child  was  willing  to  make  the  sacrifice, 
she  thought  it  just  as  well  to  let  her  do  so. 

So  Belle  was  pacified,  and  made  to  believe 
that  she  might,  after  all,  be  able  to  bear  the 
separation  from  her  father ;  and  this  letter 
writing  did  indeed  prove  to  be  a  great  source 
of  comfort  and  amusement  to  her. 

Mr.  Powers  did  not  send  her  to  school  the 
next  morning,  but  kept  her  with  him  till  the 
last  moment,  taking  her  himself  to  Mrs. 
Bradford's  house,  and  leaving  her  in  the  kind 
lady's  care.  When  Maggie  and  Bessie  came 
home,  they  found  her  sitting  on  the  sofa 
beside  their  mother,  her  head  in  her  lap,  and 
looking  the  very  picture  of  woe.  She  bright 
ened  considerably,  however,  when  she  saw 
them,  and  asked  Maggie  if  she  was  ready  to 
write  her  letter  for  her,  saying  she  was  "  only 
going  to  tell  her  father  that  she  was  going  to 
die  of  grief." 

Mrs.  Bradford  made  no  objection  to  this, 
but  said  that  the  children  must  all  have  their 


1 44  Bessie  at  School. 

dinner  before  they  did  any  thing  else ;  and  as 
she  expected,  by  the  time  Belle  had  made  a 
good  meal,  and  chatted,  as  she  eat  it,  with 
hei  happy,  merry  little  companions,  she 
thought  better  of  her  intentions  of  "  dying 
of  grief." 

Then  the  letter  was  written  ;  but  as  it  was 
so  short  a  time,  only  two  hours  indeed,  since 
Mr.  Powers  had  gone,  there  was  not  much  to 
tell ;  and  it  contained  only  these  words  :  — 

"  DEAR,  DARLING  PAPA,  —  I  think  I  better 
not  die  of  trouble  of  your  going  away,  'cause 
Maggie  says  then  all  the  postage-stamps  will 
be  wasted. 

"  YOUB  DEAR    LITTLE    BELLE." 

The  most  important  part  of  these  letters, 
according  to  the  thinking  of  the  little  ones, 
was  the  postage-stamps,  and  the  putting  them 
into  the  lamp-post  boxes ;  and  these  Belle  al- 
ways insisted  on  doing  herself. 

On  this  day,  they  all  went  out  to  walk  to- 
gether, and  when  they  reached  the  first  box, 


Belle.  145 

the  children  paused  to  put  the  letter  in.  The 
box  was  far  above  their  heads,  and  a  gentle- 
man was  there  before  them,  putting  letters 
through  the  slide. 

"  Shall  I  put  in  your  letter  for  you,  my 
dear  ?  "  said  he  to  Belle,  who  held  the  precious 
message  to  papa  fast  in  her  hand,  while  she 
waited  her  turn. 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Belle.  "  I  want  to  send  my 
own  letter  to  papa  my  own  self.  He  won't  like 
it  so  much  if  somebody  else  sends  it." 

"  Oh,  that  is  it !  "  said  the  stranger  ;  "  but 
you  can  scarcely  reach  up  here.  Shall  I  lift 
you  ?  " 

Belle  agreed,  and  the  gentleman  lifted  her, 
and  let  her  slip  the  letter  into  the  box  herself, 
telling  her  he  was  sure  her  papa  would  be 
much  pleased  with  it ;  and  Belle  went  on  her 
way  well  satisfied. 

"  Do  you  think  dear  papa  has  my  letter 
yet  ?  "  she  said  to  Bessie,  when,  an  hour  later, 
they  returned  home. 

"  Oh,  yes,  long  ago ! "  answered  Bessie. 
10 


146  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Why,  we  took  a  long  walk,  Belle  :  and  it's 
a  great  while  since  you  sent  it." 

"  Maybe  he's  sitting  in  the  cars,  reading  it," 
said  Belle ;  to  which  Bessie  replied,  "  Course 
he  is,"  and  since  neither  of  them  knew  it, 
neither  of  them  was  disturbed  by  the  fact 
that  it  would  take  three  or  four  days  for  the 
letter  to  reach  Mr.  Powers ;  and  Belle  was 
made  quite  happy  when  she  received  the  next 
morning  a  little  note  from  her  papa,  written 
in  the  cars  and  posted  at  the  first  stopping- 
place  on  his  way. 

She  and  Bessie  made  another  droll  mistake 
one  day.  Maggie  had  gone  out  with  her  Aunt 
Annie,  and  so  was  out  of  the  way  when  it  was 
time  for  the  others  to  take  their  walk ;  and  lo ! 
the  daily  letter  was  not  written,  forgotten  for  the 
first  time!  Bessie  and  Belle  were  both  in  a 
great  way  about  it.  Mamma,  too,  having  gone 
to  ride,  there  was  no  help  to  be  had  from  her. 

"  Do  it  yourself,  can't  you  ?  "  said  Bessie  : 
"  you  can  print  a  little." 

"  Yes,"  said  Belle,  seizing  on  a  sheet  o*  pa- 


Belle.  147 

per.  "  But  what  shall  I  say  ?  I  haven't  much 
to  tell  to-day." 

"  And  we  haven't  time  for  much  thoughts 
about  it,"  said  Bessie.  "  Nurse  has  baby  most 
ready,  and  she  don't  like  her  to  be  kept  wait- 
ing. You  might  tell  him  you  are  alive.  Mag- 
gie said  he  would  like  to  know  that." 

"  Yes,"  said  Belle,  and  she  began  to  write ; 
but  a  new  difficulty  arose. 

"  How  do  you  spell '  alive'  ?  "  she  asked. 

Bessie  thought  a  moment. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  slowly.  "  Oh, 
yes !  life  is  in  one  of  the  Bible-texts,  and  it's 
1-i-f-e.  I  guess  that's  the  way  you  spell '  alive,' 
only  to  put  a  a  in  front  of  it." 

Belle  took  it  all  in  good  faith,  and  printed 
out, — 

"  DEAR  PAPA,  —  I  am  alife. 

"  So  Good-by." 

Then  it  was  put  into  the  envelope. 
"  But  I  don't  know  how  to  put  papa's  name," 
said  Belle. 


i^j.8  Bessie  at  School. 

Bessie  had  not  thought  of  this  trouble, 
"•  Shall  we  ask  nurse  or  Jane  ?  "  she  said. 

"No,"  said  Belle.  "I  don't  believe  they 
tnow  how  to  write  papa's  name,  or  where  he 
nas  gone  to." 

"  But  won't  the  postage-stamp  make  it  go 
all  safe  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 

"  Oh,  to  be  sure !  "  said  Belle,  and  the  post- 
age-stamp was  put  on ;  and  nurse  and  Jane 
appearing  at  that  moment  with  the  other  chil- 
dren, they  set  out,  Belle  in  great  glee  at  hav- 
ing contrived  to  "  do  "  her  letter  all  by  herself, 
and  reached  the  familiar  lamp-post,  where  she 
was  lifted  up  by  Jane,  and  dropped  it  in,  nei- 
ther of  the  nurses  observing  that  it  had  no 
address ;  and  both  the  little  girls  firmly  be- 
lieving it  would  go  in  the  proper  direction  with 
that  important  postage-stamp  on  it. 

After  all,  Belle  continued  to  be  very  happy 
while  her  father  was  away.  She  would  have 
been  very  ungrateful  if  she  had  not  been  both 
happy  and  good  when  so  much  was  done  to 
please  her.  The  Christmas  holidays  came  and 


Belle*  149 

passed,  and  she  shared  in  all  the  enjoyments 
which  were  provided  for  Maggie  and  Bessie, 
and  was  treated  quite  as  if  she  were  one  of  the 
family ;  while  Mrs.  Bradford  could  not  help 
thinking  that  she  had  improved  a  little,  being 
more  obedient  and  far  less  wilful.  The  exam- 
ple of  such  a  prompt  obedience  as  was  shown 
by  the  other  children  had  done  her  good. 

And  now  the  holidays  were  over,  and  they 
were  back  at  school  once  more,  while  the  time 
for  Mr.  Powers'  return  was  drawing  near. 


m 

THE   HURT  FOOT. 

jjH,  oh !  "  said  Belle. 

She  did  not  say  it  as  if  she  were 
pleased ;  on  the  contrary,  the  tone 
had  in  it  some  pain  and  a  good  deal  of  fear. 
And  that  was  not  to  be  wondered  at ;  for  Belle 
was  half-way  up  a  stone-fence,  —  that  fence 
which  divided  Mrs.  Ashton's  garden  from  the 
ball-ground  where  Mr.  Peters'  boys  played  ;  and 
a  large  stone  had  slipped  and  hurt  her  foot,  and 
the  wall  felt  shaky  and  very  much  as  if  it 
might  give  still  more. 

There  she  stood,  Ul  crouched  together, 
clinging  to  the  topmost  stones  with  her  small 
hands,  and  afraid  to  go  up  or  down  lest  the 
whole  fence  should  fall  on  her. 

"  Oh,  o-o-o-oh ! "  said   she   again,  but  not 


The  Hurt  Foot.  151 

loud ;  for  there  were  boys  at  play  jusl  beyond 
the  wall,  and  if  they  heard  her,  Harry  and 
Fred  Bradford  would  come  and  lift  her  down 
and  take  her  to  the  house,  and  Miss  Ashton 
and  Mrs.  Bradford  would  know  how  disobe- 
dient she  had  been. 

For  Belle  remembered  quite  well  that  she 
and  Bessie  had  been  forbidden  to  go  near  this 
fence,  and  watch  the  boys  at  their  play ;  for 
both  ladies  feared  that  the  balls  might  come 
over  the  wall  and  strike  the  little  girls 
and  hurt  them.  And  more  than  this,  Mrs. 
Bradford  had  told  her  she  must  not  go  out 
of  doors  with  those  thin  shoes  on.  So  when 
Belle  had  made  up  her  mind  to  disobey 
her  kind  friends,  and  to  go  near  the  ball- 
ground  in  spite  of  the  orders  she  had  received, 
she  had  not  dared  to  ask  Miss  Ashton  to  change 
her  shoes,  or  put  on  her  cloak  and  hat  for  her, 
•est  she  should  be  asked  where  she  was  going. 
But  after  waiting  till  the  lady  was  busy  with 
Maggie's  music-lesson,  she  had  run  out  in  the 
little  prunella  gaiters  which  were  fit  only  for 


152  Bessie  at  School. 

the  house,  and  with  her  cloak  half  fastened, 
for  she  could  not  put  it  on  properly  herself. 
Now  the  damp,  cold  air  was  blowing  about 
her,  and  making  her  feel  very  chilly  and  un- 
comfortable. 

She  had  not  told  herself  that  she  was  going 
to  be  disobedient ;  but  had  said  that  she  would 
just  run  down  to  the  field,  and  peep  over  the 
fence  at  the  boys.  When  she  came  there, 
however,  the  fence  was  quite  too  high  for  her 
to  look  over,  and  remembering  the  clump  of 
evergreen  bushes  which  was  just  beyond,  she 
thought  she  would  climb  to  the  top  of  the  wall, 
and  sit  there,  herself  hidden  by  the  bushes, 
while  she  could  see  the  boys  quite  well.  That 
old  summer-house  would  hide  her  from  the 
house. 

So  Belle  had  thought,  saying  to  herself, 
"  Aunt  Margaret "  —  so  she  called  Mrs.  Brad- 
lord —  "  did  not  know  it  was  very  safe  behind 
the  bushes,  and  the  balls  cannot  hit  me  there. 
I  guess  she  would  let  me  if  she  knew." 

Something  kept   saying  to  her,  "  Oh,  no, 


The  Hurt  Foot.  153 

Belle  !  you  know  Aunt  Margaret  would  not  let 
you.  You  are  very  naughty,  little  Belle. 
What  would  your  papa  say  if  he  knew  what 
you  were  doing  ?  "  But  she  would  not  listen. 

Ah !  if  Belle  were  so  sure  Mrs.  Bradford 
would  let  her  do  this,  why  was  she  so  afraid 
of  being  seen  ? 

She  was  already  sadly  punished,  for  she 
now  found  that  the  bushes  which  hid  her  from 
the  boys  also  hid  them  from  her.  She  could 
hear  their  voices  very  well,  and  knew  that 
they  would  hear  her  if  she  cried  aloud ;  but 
she  could  not  see  one  of  them.  And  that 
stone  had  hurt  her  foot,  oh,  so  badly !  and 
there  she  was,  afraid  to  move  either  way. 

But  it  would  not  do  for  her  to  be  found 
there ;  and  at  last  she  slipped  down  from  the 
wall,  and  ran  as  fast  as  she  could  into  the  old 
summer-house.  There  she  climbed  up  on  the 
seat,  and  prepared  to  look  at  the  foot  that  was 
hurt. 

Very  slowly  and  carefully,  for  fear  of  knot- 
ting the  lace,  she  unfastened  her  shoe,  and 


154  Bessie  at  School. 

pulled  it  off.  Next  the  little  sock  was  removed, 
and  Belle  turned  up  her  small  foot  so  that 
she  might  see  the  heel. 

"  Ow,  ow ! "  she  said,  when  she  saw  it. 
"There's  a  great  piece  of  skin  off  it.  Ow, 
ow!" 

She  had  almost  forgotten  the  pain  in  her 
foot  while  she  was  running  from  the  forbidden 
spot ;  but  now  when  she  saw  how  badly  it 
looked,  it  seemed  to  feel  a  good  deal  worse. 
She  sat  and  gazed  at  it  for  some  moments,  and 
then  taking  up  her  sock,  she  looked  in  it, 
turned  it  inside  out,  and  shook  it.  Next  she 
shook  out  her  shoe,  and  felt  all  around  the  in- 
side with  her  hand  ;  next  she  looked  all  about 
the  planked  floor  of  the  summer-house. 

"  Why !  where  has  that  skin  gone  to  ?  "  she 
exclaimed. 

But  although  she  had  not  found  that  for 
which  she  was  looking,  she  found  something 
else,  —  something  very  bad  indeed.  Belle 
thought  it  worse  even  than  that  ugly  graze  upon 
her  foot.  There  was  a  great  hole  in  her  sock ; 


The  Hurt  Foot.  155 

and  worse,  and  worse,  another !  a  jagged  tear 
in  the  little  gaiter !  She  took  up  the  shoe  and 
the  sock  again,  and  sat  with  one  in  each  hand, 
looking  at  them  with  a  very  sober  face. 

"  There  now  !  "  she  said,  at  last.  "  I  dis- 
obeyed my  Aunt  Margaret  fee  things.  I  came 
out  with  these  shoes  on,  that's  one ;  I  came 
down  to  the  ball-ground,  that's  two ;  and  1 
climbed  the  fence,  that's  fee.  She  didn't  tell 
me  don't  climb  the  fence,  but  I  guess  I  knew 
she  didn't  want  me  to  ;  so  I'm  'fraid  it  was  a 
disobey.  Now  I'll  have  to  go  and  tell  her,  and 
then  she'll  look  sorry  at  me ;  and  I  think  pei- 
haps  she'll  punish  me,  and  perhaps  papa  will 
know  it.  Oh,  dear !  I  wish  I  hadn't,  I  wish  1 
hadn't ; "  and  Belle  began  to  cry. 

By  and  by  she  stopped  crying,  wiped  her 
eyes,  and  began  to  put  on  her  shoe  and  stock- 
ing. They  had  come  off  easily  enough ;  but 
to  put  them  on  was  another  thing.  At  last 
the  sock  was  pulled  on  after  a  fashion,  all  one- 
sided, and  half  an  inch  beyond  her  toes,  for 
Belle  was  not  used  to  dressing  herself.  But 


156  Bessie  at  School. 

do  what  she  would,  she  could  not  put  on  the 
shoe.  She  pulled  and  pulled,  till  she  was 
quite  red  in  the  face,  but  all  in  vain ;  and  at 
last  she  gave  an  impatient  scream  and  threw 
the  shoe  from  her. 

"  Bad  old  thing !  "  she  said,  and  sat  a  mo- 
ment frowning  at  it.  But  the  shoe  did  not 
mind  being  looked  cross  at,  at  all ;  and  pres- 
ently Belle  sprung  to  her  feet,  and  went  and 
picked  it  up,  feeling  rather  ashamed. 

"I  am  going  to  Miss  Ashton,"  she  said; 
"  and  she'll  ask  me  where  I  went,  and  I'll  tell 
her." 

But  just  then  she  heard  Bessie's  voice.  She 
had  quite  forgotten  that  the  half-hour  for  the 
music-lesson  must  have  gone  by,  and  that  it 
must  be  time  to  go  home  ;  and  there  was  Bes- 
sie running  down  the  garden-path,  and  calling 
to  her. 

"  Belle,  Belle !  where  are  you,  Belle  ?  " 

Bessie  had  not  come  to  school  that  morn- 
ing, for  the  weather  had  been  so  damp  that 
her  mother  had  not  thought  it  safe  for  her  to  go 


The  Hurt  Foot.  157 

out ;  but  as  it  had  cleared  up  before  Jane  went 
for  the  other  children,  she  had  given  her  leave 
to  go  with  the  nurse. 

But  when  they  came  to  the  school,  Belle 
was  not  to  be  found ;  and  some  one  saying  she 
had  been  seen  to  run  out  in  the  garden,  Bessie 
went  in  search  of  her,  while  Jane  put  on  Mag- 
gie's things. 

"  Here  I  am,  Bessie,"  said  Belle,  putting  her 
head  out  of  the  summer-house. 

Bessie  ran  to  her,  and  great  was  her  aston- 
ishment when  she  saw  Belle  standing  there 
with  her  sacque  all  awry  and  half-buttoned, 
and  her  shoe  held  in  her  hand. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked. 

"Oh,  I  was  naughty !  "  said  Belle.  "  I  went 
and  climbed  up  on  the  wall  where  your  mam- 
ma told  us  not  to  go ;  and  a  great  ugly  stone 
hurt  my  foot,  and  tore  my  shoe  and  stocking, 
and  oh,  Bessie  !  I  can't  find  the  skin." 

She  showed  Bessie  the  hurt  foot,  and  then 
a  new  search  was  commenced  for  the  missing 
piece  of  skin  ;  but  it  was  all  in  vain,  and  after 


158  Bessie  at  School. 

much  wonderment  as  to  what  could  have  be- 
come of  it,  Bessie  begged  Belle  to  come  at 
onco  to  the  house. 

"  For  Jane  must  have  Maggie  ready,"  she 
said ;  "  and  you  will  take  cold  barefeeted,  Belle. 
"We  must  go  right  home  and  tell  mamma." 

The  garden-path  was  planked,  like  the  sum- 
mer-house floor,  about  half-way  up  to  the 
house ;  and  Belle  went  on  pretty  well  over 
the  smooth  boards,  which  did  not  hurt  the  lit- 
tle stocking-foot,  but  when  she  came  to  the 
gravel  walks,  it  was  not  so  easy.  There  the 
pebbles  hurt ;  and  she  limped  and  hopped  along 
till  she  came  to  the  back  stoop,  where  Miss 
Ashton  and  Jane  met  her,  full  of  alarm  at  the 
state  in  which  they  found  her. 

Miss  Ashton  did  not  scold,  but  she  looked 
very  much  grieved  at  Belle's  disobedience ; 
and  she  told  Jane  she  must  take  her  home  as 
fast  as  possible,  so  that  the  hurt  foot  might  be 
attended  to,  and  something  be  given  to  her, 
which  might  prevent  her  from  taking  cold. 

As  for  putting  on  the  walking-shoe,  or  even 


The  Hurt  #oot.  159 

the  cut  gaiter,  that  was  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. Miss  Ashton  rolled  a  soft  handkerchief 
around  the  foot;  and,  wrapping  a  shawl  over 
that,  Jane  took  Belle  in  her  arms,  and  hurried 
home  as  fast  as  Bessie's  little  feet  could  keep 
pace  with  her.  But  if  Miss  Ashton  had  not 
much  to  say,  Jane  found  enough. 

"  To  think  of  your  doing  such  a  thing,  Miss 
Belle  !  "  she  said ;  "  to  be  so  naughty,  and  hurt 
yourself,  and  maybe  make  yourself  sick,  and 
give  so  much  trouble  to  Mrs.  Bradford.  Now 
she'll  be  so  worried,  and  that's  very  bad  for 
her.  You  know  she  was  worse  the  other  day 
when  Frankie  fell  down  and  cut  his  head." 

"  But  that  was  most  entirely  your  fault, 
Jane,"  said  Maggie :  "  you  ran  in  very  sud- 
denly, and  screamed  to  mamma  that  Frankie 
was  most  killed ;  and  papa  said  it  gave  her  a 
shock,  and  people  ought  to  tell  her  things  qui- 
etly and  gently  so  as  not  to  frighten  her." 

"  I  don't  know  what  she'll  say  when  I  tell 
her,"  said  Jane,  "  and  your  papa  away,  and 
all." 


160  Bessie  at  School. 

"  You  shan't  tell  her,"  said  Belle :  "  I'll 
tell  her,  myself." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie.  "  It's  better  for  Belle 
to  tell  mamma  herself,  Janey ;  and  I  will  help 
her.  I  have  thought  how  we  can  tell  her  in  a 
manner  that  is  not  at  all  shocking,  and  she 
would  rather  we  would  tell  of  ourselves  when 
we  have  been  naughty." 

When  they  reached  home,  Jane  carried 
Belle  to  the  head  of  the  stairs,  where  she  put 
her  down ;  and  the  three  little  girls  arranged 
their  plan  for  telling  mamma. 

Belle  took  off  her  hat,  and  putting  the  little 
gaiter,  which  she  still  held  in  her  hand,  in  the 
hollow  of  the  crown,  held  the  hat  against  her 
bosom  with  both  arms,  so  that  the  shoe  was 
quite  hidden.  She,  as  well  as  the  other  two, 
wanted  Mrs.  Bradford  to  question  them  before 
she  saw  the  shoe  or  the  foot.  It  was  not  that 
they  wished  to  keep  any  thing  back  from  her, 
but  they  feared  to  tell  her  too  suddenly. 

They  all  wished  it  was  over,  especially  Belle  ; 
and  the  young  faces  were  by  no  means  as 


The  Hurt  Fotot.  161 

bright  as  they  usually  were,  when  they  ran  in 
to  mamma's  room  on  their  daily  return  from 
school.  Belle  kept  behind  the  others  until 
she  came  close  to  Mrs.  Bradford,  when,  with- 
out putting  up  her  face  for  the  kiss  which  gen- 
erally welcomed  her,  she  sat  down  on  a  stool 
at  the  lady's  side,  still  keeping  her  bandaged 
foot  carefully  out  of  sight. 

Mrs.  Bradford  did  not  speak  to  her,  or  tell 
her  to  come  and  kiss  her,  as  Belle  half  hoped, 
half  feared,  she  would  do.  She  kept  on  with 
her  work  with  a  \ery  grave  face,  and  that 
work  was  a  pretty  little  sacque,  like  some 
owned  by  Maggie  and  Bessie,  which  she  was 
embroidering  for  Belle.  The  child  knew  it 
was  for  her;  and  she  had  been  disobeying 
that  dear,  kind  friend.  She  seemed  to  feel 
how  naughty  and  ungrateful  she  had  been  even 
more  than  she  had  done  before. 

"  She  looks  as  sorry  as  if  she  knew,"  said 

Belle,  to  herself:  "  but  then  she  can't  know 

yet.     No  one  saw  me  do  it  but  God,,  and  He 

never  tells  about  people;  but  I  guess  He's 

11 


i62  Bdssic  at  School, 

pretty  sorry  too,  'cause   I  was   so   naughty 
Maybe  He  won't  be  so  sorry  with  me  if  I  tell 
Aunt  Margaret  pretty  quick.    I'll  just  do  it,  if 
Bessie  don't  make  haste." 

Bessie  was  just  preparing  to  tell  her  story  ; 
but  in  order  not  to  shock  her  mamma,  she 
came  to  it  in  rather  a  roundabout  way,  not  at 
all  like  her  usual  fashion  of  telling  things. 
Sitting  down  upon  the  rug  at  Belle's  side,  she 
said  in  a  grave  tone,  — 

"  Mamma,  Belle  and  Maggie  and  I  have 
found  out  something  to-day." 

"  Have  you,  dear  ?  "  said  mamma,  very  sober 
ly ;  but  she  did  not  ask  what  it  was,  as  Belle  had 
hoped  she  would.  It  would  make  the  confes 
sion  so  much  easier,  she  thought,  if  Aunt  Mar 
garet  would  only  question  them  a  little ;  but 
she  did  not  seem  inclined  to  do  so.  And  there 
was  the  cut  shoe  beneath  the  hat,  which  Belle 
had  now  allowed  to  slip  carefully  down  into 
her  lap,  keeping  both  hands  pressed  on  it,  as  il 
she  feared  it  would  jump  out  of  its  own  accord, 
and  show  itself  before  the  proper  time. 


The  Hurt  Foot.  163 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Bessie,  in  reply  to  her  moth 
er  :  "  it  is  something  we  did  not  know  about 
before." 

This  time  there  was  no  answer ;  1  ut  Belle 
thought  Mrs.  Bradford  looked  at  her  as  if  she 
expected  she  would  speak  for  herself,  instead 
of  letting  Bessie  do  it  for  her.  She  shrugged 
up  her  shoulders,  wriggled  herself  about  on 
her  seat,  and  felt  more  and  more  uncomfort- 
able. 

Bessie  waited  a  moment,  and  then  spoke 
again. 

"  We've  found  out  the  color  of  the  inside  of 
people's  heels,  mamma,"  she  said ;  while  Belle 
looked  with  a  very  innocent  air  into  the  fire. 
Bessie  went  on,  "  Least  we've  found  out  the 
color  of  Belle's,  and  I  s'pose  all  people's  are 
the  same.  It's  a  nice  color :  it's  pink." 

"  How  did  you  find  that  out,  dear  ?  "  asked 
mamma. 

"  Belle's  foot  is  peeled,  and  we  saw  the  in- 
side of  it.  But,  mamma,  we  couldn't  find  the 
nkin." 


164  Bessie  at  School. 

"  How  did  the  skin  come  off  your  foot, 
Belle  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Bradford,  trying  not  to 
gmile,  and  speaking  for  the  first  time  to  the 
little  culprit,  while  Aunt  Bessie,  who  sat  by, 
turned  her  face  aside. 

"  'Cause  a  big  hole  came  in  my  stocking, 
ma'am,"  answered  Belle. 

"  How  was  that  ?  It  was  a  very  good  little 
stocking  when  it  was  put  on  this  morning." 

"  'Cause  a  big,  larger  hole  came  in  my  shoe, 
and  it  went  foo  and  foo." 

"  But  it  was  a  very  good  shoe  too,  quite 
new,"  answered  Mrs.  Bradford.  "  How  did  a 
hole  come  in  it  already  ?  " 

"  A  stone  came  on  it,  Aunt  Margaret ;  but, 
—  Aunt  Margaret,  —  I'm  'fraid  it  came  on  it 
'cause  I  was  naughty.  I  disobeyed  you  fee 
times,  Aunt  Margaret ; "  and  Belle's  voice  had 
a  piteous  tone  in  it,  as  if  she  were  about  to 
burst  into  a  cry  again. 

"  And  does  my  little  Belle  want  to  tell  me 
all  about  it  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Bradford,  throwing 
down  her  work,  and  holding  out  her  arms  to 
the  child. 


The  Hurt  Foot.  165 

Belle  lot  hat  and  shoe  slip  to  the  ground, 
and  in  another  moment  had  scrambled  into 
Mrs.  Bradford's  lap.  Ah  !  what  a  comfort  it 
was  to  feel  about  her  those  kind  arms,  whose 
dear,  loving  clasp  reminded  her  of  those  of 
her  lost  mamma !  and  to  nestle  her  head 
against  Aunt  Margaret's  shoulder,  while  she 
confessed  with  many  a  penitent  sob  how 
naughty  she  had  been ! 

"  I  s'pose  you'll  have  to  punish  me  pretty 
much :  won't  you,  Aunt  Margaret  ?  "  said  Belle, 
when  her  story  was  finished. 

"  My  poor  little  girl,  I'm  afraid  you  have 
punished  yourself  more  than  I  should,"  said 
Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Oh,  no,  Aunt  Margaret !  I  did  not  punish 
myself  one  bit.  I  did  not  go  in  the  closet  for 
a  single  moment,"  said  Belle. 

While  Belle  had  been  talking,  Mrs.  Bradford 
had  taken  off  the  bandage,  and  was  looking 
at  the  little  grazed  foot.  She  still  held  it  ten- 
derly in  her  hand  when  the  child  said  these 
last  words. 


1 66  Bessie  at  School. 

"  You  have  punished  yourself  without  going 
in  the  closet,"  she  said.  "  This  poor  little 
foot  must  have  some  salve  on  it,  and  be  bound 
up ;  and  you  cannot  wear  a  shoe  for  several 
days,  lest  it  should  be  rubbed.  So  you  will 
have  to  stay  in  the  house  and  not  go  out  at 
all." 

"  And,  Belle,"  Mrs.  Bradford  went  on  more 
slowly  now, "  a  telegram  came  from  your  fa- 
ther a  short  time  ago,  saying  that  he  would  be 
here  to-night,  and  begging  me  to  send  you  to 
the  railroad  depot  to  meet  him ;  but  it  will  be 
late,  and  I  am  afraid  to  let  you  go  out  even  in 
a  carriage,  after  you  have  run  so  much  risk  of 
taking  cold.  He  will  have  to  be  disappointed, 
my  little  girl ;  and  I  fear  he  will  be  sorry  when 
he  sees  your  foot,  and  hears  how  it  was  hurt." 

Now,  indeed,  Belle  felt  that  she  was  pun- 
ished for  her  disobedience.  The  delight  of 
having  her  father  back  again  was  almost  lost 
sight  of  in  her  distress  at  not  being  able  to  go 
and  meet  him,  and  the  thought  that  he  would 
know  how  naughty  she  had  been. 


The  Hurt  Foot.  167 

Mrs.  Bradford  put  her  on  the  sofa, .  and 
brought  some  salve  and  soft  linen,  and  bound 
up  the  foot,  after  which  Belle  was  carried  down- 
stairs, so  that  she  might  have  her  dinner  with 
the  other  children.  But  she  could  not  eat ; 
the  thought  of  her  father  and  his  disappoint- 
ment brought  a  great  lump  in  her  throat ;  and 
though  she  tried  hard  not  to  cry,  the  tears 
would  find  their  way  out  and  roll  down  her 
cheeks.  Maggie  and  Bessie  did  their  best  to 
console  her,  but  all  in  vain  ;  and  when,  at 
last,  they  went  out  for  their  walk,  which 
mamma  would  not  allow  them  to  omit,  they 
left  her  on  the  library  sofa  in  a  very  mourn- 
ful state. 

"If  papa  wouldn't  look  sorry,  I  wouldn't 
care  so  very  much,"  said  Belle,  as  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford tried  to  comfort  her.  "  I  promised  him 
to  be  good  all  the  time,  and  I  went  and  was 
naughty  just  when  he  was  coming  back." 

"  I  am  very  sorry  for  you,  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford  ;  "  but  I  shall  tell  your  papa  you  have 
been  a  good  girl  all  the  rest  of  the  time  ;  and 


i68  Bessie  at  School. 

this  will  help  you  to  remember  that  yout 
older  friends  know  best." 

"  Yes'm,"  sobbed  Belle.  "  But,  Aunt  Mar- 
garet, I  don't  think  myself  gave  myself  such  a 
great,  large  punishment  as  this.  I  don't  think 
I  could  do  it.  I  guess  God  did  it,  'cause  Ho 
knew  I  deserved  it,  for  disobeying  you  so. 
Maybe  He  thought  I  wouldn't  tell  you,  and 
you  wouldn't  know  to  punish  me,  so  He  better 
do  it.  I  forgot  He  saw  me,  till  my  foot  waa 
hurt,  and  I  was  'fraid  on  the  fence." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford :  "  I  think  you 
are  right,  and  that  '  our  Father  in  heaven  * 
meant  to  give  His  little  girl  a  lesson.  What 
lesson  has  my  Belle  learned  this  morning  ?  " 

"  To  mind  you,  my  wise  friend,"  said  Belle. 

"  Yes  ;  and  what  else  ?  " 

The  child  thought  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
"  That  He  sees  me  ev'ry  day,  and  is  sorry  with 
me  when  I'm  naughty.  But,  Aunt  Margaret, 
what  made  you  look  so  sorry  at  me,  as  if  you 
knew,  before  I  told  you." 

"  I  did  know,  Belle." 


The  Hurt  Foot.  169 

"  Why,  how  ?     Did  God  tell  you  ?  " 

"  Aunt  Bessie  was  coming  along  the  street 
on  the  other  side  of  the  ball-ground,  and  she 
saw  a  little  figure  on  the  top  of  the  fence ;  and 
she  knew  who  it  was  and  felt  frightened  lest 
you  should  fall  and  be  hurt ;  for  she  was  too 
far  away  to  be  of  any  help.  But  God  took 
care  of  the  little  girl  who  did  not  care  for  her- 
self, and  let  her  come  down  off  the  fence  with 
out  being  killed  as  she  might  have  been.  Aunt 
Bessie  saw  that  you  had  come  down  safely,  and 
then  she  came  here  and  told  me  about  it.  She 
did  not  know  that  you  were  hurt,  nor  did  I ; 
but  I  felt  anxious  to  know  if  you  would  come 
and  confess  your  fault,  and  though  I  am  sorry 
that  you  were  disobedient,  I  do  not  feel  half  as 
badly  as  I  should  have  done  if  you  had  tried 
to  hide  it." 

"  I'd  have  told  you  quicker,  Aunt  Margaret, 
only  we  were  afraid  you'd  be  too  shocked,  and 
Bessie  made  up  that  way  to  tell  you." 

"You  were  very  considerate,"  said  Mrs. 
Bradford,  smiling  as  she  remembered  Bea- 


170  Bessie  at  School. 

sie's  roundabout  fashion  of  bringing  out  her 
story. 

Belle  sat  still  witl  a  grave  face  for  a  few 
moments,  thinking  of  what  her  kind  friend 
had  said. 

"  Aunt  Margaret,"  she  then  began,  "  God 
took  good  care  of  me ;  but  He  did  not  take  very 
good  care  of  my  foot,  did  He  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Belle :  this  little  foot  might  have 
been  so  crushed  by  that  stone  that  you  never 
would  have  been  able  to  walk  again ;  but  God 
watched  over  it,  and  only  let  it  be  hurt  enough 
to  remind  it  not  to  run  into  naughty,  disobe- 
dient ways.  He  has  been  very  good  to  you, 
dear." 

Just  then,  Patrick  came  to  say  some  visitors 
were  in  the  other  room;  and  Mrs.  Bradford, 
giving  Belle  a  picture-book,  told  her  to  amuse 
herself  with  it  till  she  came  back. 

Belle  sat  still  for  a  few  moments  after  Mrs. 
Bradford  left  her,  not  looking  at  the  pictures, 
but  thinking  of  her  own  naughtiness  j  and  at 
last,  she  said  aloud,  — 


The  Hurt  Foot.  171 

*'  I  guess  if  God  took  so  much  trouble  to 
punish  me  just  enough  to  make  me  remember, 
and  not  enough  to  make  me  a  lame  girl  all 
my  life,  I'd  better  punish  myself  a  little 
too." 

Belle  sometimes  punished  herself  when  she 
knew  she  had  been  naughty,  and  her  way 
of  doing  this  was  to  shut  herself  up  in  tho 
closet. 

There  was  one  which  opened  out  of  the 
library.  It  was  not  dark,  but  the  little  win- 
dow which  lighted  it  was  high  up  in  the  wall, 
so  that  she  could  not  see  out ;  and  there  was 
nothing  there  to  amuse  her,  for  it  was  hung 
around  with  overcoats  and  hats,  so  that  it  was 
really  disagreeable  to  her  to  shut  herself  up 
there  as  she  had  done  more  than  once  since 
she  had  been  at  Mrs.  Bradford's. 

She  slipped  down  from  the  sofa,  and  went 
into  the  closet  where  she  pulled  the  door  to, 
and  sat  down  upon  the  floor,  still  thinking  how 
sorry  papa  would  look.  But  presently  she  felt 
tired,  and  looking  around  her,  she  saw  a  car- 


172  Bessie  at  School. 

riage-robe  lying  in  the  corner.  She  rolled  up 
one  end  of  this  for  a  pillow,  and  curled  herself 
up  upon  it ;  and  there,  a  few  moments  later, 
Mrs.  Bradford  found  her  fast  asleep.  She 
called  Jane,  and  had  Belle  carried  to  her  crib, 
feeling  very  thankful  that  the  little  girl  truly 
repented  of  her  fault ;  for  she  saw  she  was  quite 
in  earnest  about  punishing  herself.  Belle  took 
a  long  nap,  and  the  children  had  been  home 
some  time.  She  awoke,  and  it  was  then  nearly 
time  for  her  papa  to  come.  When  at  last  he 
arrived,  he  did  indeed  look  grieved  to  see  the 
hurt  foot,  and  hear  how  it  had  happened,  but 
he  was  glad  she  had  not  tried  to  hide  it. 

"  But,  papa,"  said  Belle,  when  she  had  fin- 
ished her  confession,  "  Bessie  and  I  could  not 
find  that  skin.  I  wonder  what  did  become  of 
it." 

The  children  were  all  three  greatly  puzzled 
and  disturbed  at  the  disappearance  of  the  piece 
of  skin  which  had  been  scraped  from  Belle's 
foot ;  and  late  that  night  when  mamma  was  her- 
self going  to  bed,  and  went  to  give  her  birdies 


The  Hurt  Foot.  173 

a  last  kiss,  Bessie  roused  a  little  as  her  mother 
leaned  over  her,  and  murmured  sleepily,  — 

"I  wonder  what  did  become   of   Belle's 
skin." 


vm. 

THE   BROKEN   CLOCK. 

]T  was  recess  ;  and  Bessie  stood  at  the 
back  school-room  window,  watching 
her  brothers  and  the  rest  of  Mr. 
Peters'  boys  at  play.  Four  of  the  older  girls 
were  in  the  room,  two  of  them  standing  by 
the  fire  talking ;  while  the  others,  namely,  Kate 
Maynard  and  Fanny  Berry,  were  at  their  desks, 
each  preparing  a  neglected  lesson.  Their 
French  master  came  at  half-ppst  twelve,  and 
they  were  now  in  a  great  hurry  to  finish  the 
exercises  which  should  have  been  ready  the 
night  before. 

"  There ! "  said  Kate,  throwing  down  her 
pen,  and  shutting  her  exercise-book  with  an 
energetic  slap  upon  the  cover,  "  I  am  through. 
How  about  you,  Fanny  ?  " 


The  Broken  Clock.  175 

Fanny  looked  up  at  the  little  clock  which 
sto(  d  upon  the  mantel-piece,  and  shook  her 
head  despairingly. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  and  I  shall  not  be  ahle  to 
finish.  I  am  not  half  as  quick  as  you,  Kate. 
It  is  twenty  minutes  past  twelve,  and  old  Gau- 
frau  will  be  here  in  ten  minutes.  Oh,  if  I  had 
but  ten  more,  I  would  do  it !  He  threatened 
to  complain  of  me  to  Mrs.  Ashton  next  time  I 
was  not  ready  for  him.  It's  all  the  fault  of 
that  story-book  you  lent  me,  Julia  Grafton :  I 
sat  the  whole  evening  reading  it,  and  quite 
forgot  my  exercise." 

"  Please  do  not  blame  me  or  the  book,"  said 
.Julia.  "I  did  not  ask  you  to  borrow  it,  nor 
did  the  book  request  to  be  read,  I  imagine." 

"  Do  stop  talking,  and  write  all  you  can," 
said  Kate.  "  What's  the  good  of  wasting  more 
time  ?  " 

"  If  I  only  had  ten  minutes  more  !  "  moaned 
Fanny  again." 

"  If  the  clock  were  only  slow,  as  it  was  the 
other  day,"  said  Mary  Merton.  "  We  need 


176  Bessie  at  School. 

not  tell  Monsieur  that  it  was  not  right,  for  he 
would  never  know ;  for  he  has  no  watch  of  his 
own,  and  always  goes  by  this." 

"  Tell  him  it's  too  fast,"  said  another. 

"He'll  be  sure  to  suspect  something  when 
lie  sees  Fanny  scrambling  through  her  exer- 
cise at  that  rate." 

"  He's  used  to  see  Fan  doing  that,"  laughed 
Julia  Grafton,  looking  at  Fanny,  who,  with  a 
very  distressed  face,  was  writing  away  as  fast 
as  her  pen  could  move,  caring  little  for  the 
many  mistakes  she  was  making,  if  she  only 
had  the  exercise  finished  and  handed  in  with 
the  rest,  so  that  she  might  escape  the  threat- 
ened complaint  to  Mrs.  Ashton. 

Poor  Fanny!  Indolent  and  procrastina- 
ting, loving  her  pleasure  better  than  her  duty, 
she  was  often  in  such  troubles  as  this.  Still, 
she  was  good-natured  and  obliging ;  and  her 
schoolmates  pitied  and  were  fond  of  her,  and 
were  always  ready  to  help  her  if  they  could. 

V  Do  some  one  put  the  clock  back,"  pleaded 
Fanny. 


The  Broken  Clock.  177 

"To  be  sure,"  said  Kate.  "Why  did  not 
we  think  of  that  before?  Monsieur  will  be 
nicely  taken  in." 

"  But  suppose  Mrs.  Ashton  finds  it  out  ?  " 
said  Julia. 

"  Mrs.  Ashton  will  not  suspect  any  thing," 
said  Mary,  as  Kate  laid  her  hand  upon  the 
clock.  "  It  has  been  wrong  once :  why  not 
again  ?  " 

"  Take  care  you  do  not  injure  it,"  said  Ju- 
lia, uneasily.  '"  1  know  Mr.  Ashton  gave  that 
clock  to  his  wife  only  a  few  days  before  he 
died.  It  was  the  last  thing  he  ever  gave  her, 
and  he  placed  it  there  on  the  mantel-piece; 
for  which  reason  she  leaves  it  here,  though  I 
rather  wonder  at  her  doing  so." 

While  the  others  were  speaking,  Kate  May- 
nard  had  taken  down  the  clock  ;  and  Marj? 
Merton  opened  it,  and  moved  back  the  hands. 
As  Kate  went  to  replace  it  upon  the  mantel- 
piece, the  voice  of  Mrs.  Ashton  speaking  to 
the  French  professor,  and  his  in  reply,  were 
heard  in  the  hall.  In  her  haste,  Kate  did  not 

12 


i7&  Bessie  at  School. 

put  the  clock  far  enough  back  upon  the  shelf:  it 
slipped  between  that  and  her  hand,  and  fell 
upon  the  hearth.  Strange  to  say,  it  did  not 
fly  in  pieces  as  all  the  girls  expected  would 
be  the  case ;  not  even  the  glass  over  the  face 
was  cracked,  for  the  clock  fell  upon  its  side, 
and  as  the  terrified  Kate  raised  it,  it  appeared 
unhurt.  The  next  moment,  however,  as  she 
put  it  in  its  proper  place,  a  whirring  sound 
was  heard,  then  a  sharp,  short  click,  and  the 
hands  stood  still. 

Mrs.  Ashton  and  Monsieur  Gaufrau,  hearing 
nothing  of  what  was  going  on  within,  still 
stood  talking  in  the  hall ;  and  the  girls,  in- 
cluding Fanny,  who  had  quite  forgotten  her 
lesson,  stood  looking  from  one  to  another  in 
guilty  and  alarmed  silence. 

Mary  Merton  was  the  first  to  break  it. 

"Thank  fortune!"  she  exclaimed.  "The 
thing  does  not  look  damaged  ;  and  no  one  need 
know  how  it  happened,  if  we  all  keep  our  own 
secret.  Oh,  there's  Bessie  Bradford !  "  and 
Mary  looked  more  frightened  than  she  had 


The  Broken  Clock.  179 

done  before,  as  she  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  child's 
shocked  and  astonished  face  ;  for  she,  as  well 
as  the  others,  had  a  feeling  that  no  deceit  01 
concealment  was  to  be  looked  for  from  Bessie. 

Until  that  moment,  they  had  all  forgotten 
the  presence  of  the  little  girl,  who  now  stood 
silent  on  the  window-seat,  her  face  turned  to- 
wards the  uneasy  group,  looking  from  one  to 
another  with  an  expression  of  mingled  wonder, 
grief,  and  indignation,  under  which  the  most 
insensible  among  them  felt  herself  abashed. 

"  0  Mousie !  "  said  Kate  Maynard,  who 
generally  called  Bessie  by  that  pet  name,  "  I 
had  forgotten  that  you  were  there !  Remember 
you  are  not  to  say  a  word.  If  you  do,  I  will 
never  forgive  you." 

There  was  no  time  for  more,  for  the  profes- 
sor's step  was  heard  approaching ;  and  as  the 
girls  suddenly  scattered  to  different  parts  of 
the  room,  he  opened  the  door  and  came  in. 

"Ah!"  he  said  in  French,  after  bidding 
them  good  morning  and  looking  at  the  clock, 
"  1  see  I  am  too  early,  and  I  am  glad  ;  for  I 


i8o  Bessie  at  School. 

have  left  at  Mr.  Peters'  a  book  which  I  shall 
need,  and  I  have  yet  time  to  return  for  it. 
Your  pardon,  young  ladies."  Then  as  he 
turned  to  go,  and  caught  sight  of  Bessie,  he 
smiled  and  came  towards  her.  She  was  a 
great  favorite  with  him,  although  she  was  not 
one  of  his  scholars ;  for  he  had  now  and  then 
met  her  in  this  room,  and  her  polite  and  lady- 
like little  ways  were  very  pleasing  to  the  cere- 
monious old  Frenchman,  who  always  made  a 
point  of  bowing  to  her  with  his  very  best  grace, 
which  Bessie  would  return  by  giving  him  her 
mite  of  a  hand  to  shake,  and  saying  prettily, 
"  Bon  jour,  Monsieur,"  as  her  mamma  had 
taught  her. 

"  Ah !  "  said  Monsieur  Gaufrau,  changing 
from  his  own  language  to  his  broken  English, 
for  he  knew  that  Bessie  understood  only  a 
fev  words  of  the  former,  "  Ah !  you  look  sad, 
ma  petite.  What  have  you  ?  you  are  trouble. 
These  great  demoiselles  have  tease  you  ?  Do 
not  be  sad  of  that ;  they  do  not  mean  nothing ; 
it  is  but  their  joy.  They  are  good  of  heart, 


The  Broken  Clock.  181 

unt  have  not  too  much  thought.  Mademoi- 
selle Maynard,  you  cannot  make  glad  onco 
more  your  little  friend  ?  I  am  of  haste ;  "  and 
patting  Bessie  on  the  head,  he  waved  his  hand 
politely  towards  Kate,  as  if  committing  the 
little  child  to  her  care,  and  hurried  away. 

Bessie  looked  after  the  gray-haired  and  kind- 
hearted  old  gentleman  as  he  went  out,  and 
closed  the  door  behind  him,  and  then  turned 
her  eyes  on  Kate.  Was  Kate,  of  whom  she 
had  really  grown  very  fond,  going  to  carry  on 
this  deception  ?  She  had  not  time  to  speak, 
scarce  even  to  collect  her  thoughts ;  for  the 
next  moment  the  young  lady  caught  her  up 
in  her  usual  abrupt  fashion,  and  seating  her 
on  her  desk,  placed  herself  before  her,  while 
the  rest  gathered  hurriedly  around. 

Bessie  knew  that  a  struggle  was  before  her, 
and  somehow  she  felt  that  all  these  great  girls 
were  banded  together  against  her.  There  was 
only  time  for  a  little  wish,  a  half-breathed,  up- 
ward thought ;  but  it  was  heard  and  answered. 

"  Bessie,"  said  Kate,  in  a  low  tone,  "  you 


1 82  Bessie  at  School. 

are  not  to  speak  of  this,  or  to  let  any  one  sup 
pose  that  you  knew  of  it,  or  were  in  the  room. 
Do  you  understand  ?  " 

The  child  looked  steadily  at  her,  though  her 
color  rose,  and  her  breath  came  quickly,  and 
she  had,  oh !  such  a  longing  to  be  safely 
home  at  the  side  of  her  own  dear  mamma. 

"  S'pose  some  one  asks  me  ?  "  she  said. 

Kate  colored  in  her  turn,  and  hesitated. 

"  Say  you  don't  know  any  thing  about  it," 
said  Mary  Merton.  "  It  is  true  enough  :  you 
don't.  You  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  clock." 

"  But  I  know  about  it,"  answered  Bessie : 
"  I  saw  what  did  happen  to  it,  and  I  heard  that 
noise  it  made  ;  and  I  know  something  pretty 
much  is  the  matter  with  it.  Once  Fred  threw 
his  ball  in  our  nursery,  and  it  knocked  down 
the  clock,  and  it  made  just  that  noise,  and  was 
so  spoiled  papa  had  to  buy  another  one.  But 
Fred  went  right  away  and  told  papa,"  she 
added,  as  a  hint  to  her  hearers  of  the  course 
she  thought  they  ought  to  take. 

"  Telling  one's  papa  is  a  different   thing 


The  Broken  Clock.  183 

h'om  telling  Mrs.  Ashton,"  said  Mary.  "  She 
will  be  so  furious  if  she  finds  out  how  it  hap- 
pened." 

"  Ah !  that  is  it,"  said  Kate :  "  I  would  not 
hesitate  a  moment  to  tell  her  I  had  broken  the 
clock ;  but  how  can  I  tell  her  how  it  came 
about  ?  " 

"  And  I  shall  get  into  trouble  too,"  said 
Fanny,  in  her  fretful  tones.  "  Girls,  what 
shall  we  do  ?  " 

"  Do !  "  repeated  Mary  Merton.  "  There  is 
but  one,  thing  to  do,  and  that  is  to  stand  by 
one  another.  There  are  only  four  of  us  here, 
and  none  of  us  know  any  thing  about  it :  that 
is  all.  As  for  you,  little  telltale,  if  you  have 
a  word  to  say  about  it,  remember  that  it  is 
your  friend  Kate  you  will  get  into  a  peck  of 
trouble." 

"  I'm  not  a  telltale !  "  said  Bessie,  indignant- 
ly, keeping  down  her  temper  with  great  diffi- 
culty. "  I'm  not  a  telltale ;  and  if  you  don't 
tfant  me  to,  I  won't  tell  any  one  the  clock  is 
Broken,  not  even  my  dear  mamma,  or  my  own 


184  Bessie  at  School. 

Maggie.  I  s'pose  I  needn't,  when  I  didn't  do 
it  myself.  But  if  Mrs.  Ashton  asks  about  it, 
I'll  have  to  tell  her." 

"  Why  don't  you  run  quick,  and  tell  her  all 
about  it  now  ?  "  sneered  Mary.  "  You  can 
get  us  all  nicely  punished,  if  you  make  a  gcod 
story  of  it.  Go,  telltale,  go !  " 

Bessie  made  no  answer,  but  watched  Kate's 
face  anxiously. 

"  See  here',  Bessie,"  said  Fanny :  "  promise 
us  not  to  say  a  word  about  it,  if  Mrs.  Ashton 
asks  ;  and  I  will  dress  a  beautiful  doll  for  you." 

Bessie  shook  her  head  resolutely. 

"  Do  you  think  I'd  tell  a  story  for  a  doll  ?  " 
she  answered,  and  then,  putting  her  arms 
round  Kate's  neck,  she  whispered,  "I  would 
help  you  if  I  could,  Katie :  but  I  couldn't  make 
Jesus  sorry  even  for  you ;  and  you  won't  do  it, 
dear,  will  you?  Please  think  about  Him, 
Katie,  and  don't  tell  a  wicked  story.  He  will 
help  you  to  be  brave,  if  you  ask  Him." 

None  of  the  others  heard  what  she  said,  but 
it  was  easy  enough  to  guess  that  she  was  try- 


The  Broken^  Clock.  185 

ing  to  persuade  Kate  to  do  right ;  and  Fanny, 
for  once  roused  to  energy,  exclaimed, — 

"  You'll  have  to  stand  by  us,  Kate :  you 
can't  tell  your  own  share  in  the  mischief  with- 
out bringing  in  the  rest,  and  you've  no  right 
to  do  it.  And  as  for  you,  Bessie,  if  you  bring 
us  into  any  trouble  with  your  nonsense,  we'll 
keep  you  out  of  our  room,  and  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  you.  We  won't  have  a  mean 
little  telltale  here  spying  and  reporting  us." 

But  this,  as  well  as  many  other  threats  and 
promises,  proved  of  no  avail.  Bessie  could 
not  be  persuaded  to  say  that  she  would  tell  an 
untruth,  if  she  were  asked  about  the  clock ; 
and  the  more  steadfast  she  was,  the  more  ur- 
gent grew  the  older  girls. 

"  It  is  so,  Bessie,"  sighed  Kate,  all  her  frol- 
icsome spirits  quite  put  to  flight.  "  It  is  so :  I 
cannot  confess  my  own  share  without  bringing 
in  Fanny  and  Mary ;  and  I  don't  know  th  at 
that  would  be  fair,  even  if  I  dared  to  tell  of 
myself.  But  I  tell  you  what  we  will  do  for 
you,  if  you  promise  faithfully  —  and  I  know 


1 86  Bessie  at  School. 

you  will  keep  your  word  —  not  to  betray  us. 
You  are  so  anxious  to  have  that  hospital  bed 
for  your  lame  Jemmy.  Promise  to  say  what 
we  all  say,  and  we  will  all  vote  that  you  shall 
have  that  prize ;  and  I  will  coax  the  four  girls 
who  are  not  here  to  do  the  same.  They  will 
do  it  for  me." 

Bessie  knew  that  this  was  true,  for  Kate 
generally  carried  things  her  own  way  in  her 
room.  "  Maggie,  of  course,  will  vote  for  you : 
so  will  Belle  and  Lily ;  and  so  no  one  else  will 
have  a  chance,  for  that  will  be  more  than  half 
the  school,  and  you  are  sure  of  the  prize. 
Quick !  speak,  Bessie !  There  is  no  time 
to  lose.  Monsieur  will  be  back  in  a  mo- 
ment." 

"  Think  of  the  good  you  will  do  the  lame 
boy,"  said  Fanny :  "  and  just  by  such  a  little 
—  well,  you  can't  call  it  even  a  '  fib,'  for  you 
don't  know  much  about  the  clock,  you  don't 
understand  it,  and  you  did  not  see,  it  break. 
For  all  you  know,  it  may  be  all  right  in  a  few 
moments." 


The  Broken  Clock.  187 

"  Then  Mrs.  Ashton  won't  ask  about  it,  arid 
I  needn't  speak,"  said  Bessie. 

"  Pshaw !  you  always  come  back  to  the  same 
point,"  said  Mary.  "None  of  us  need  speak, 
if  Mrs.  Ashton  does  not  ask  us :  need  we  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie.  "  Some  one  ought  to 
speak  now." 

"  And  who'd  be  so  mean,  I'd  like  to  know  ?  " 
said  Fanny. 

Bessie  had  a  feeling  that  the  meanness  lay 
elsewhere :  first,  in  the  deception  practised 
upon  the.  patient  and  polite  old  Frenchman; 
next,  in  the  concealment  of  the  mischief  done 
from  Mrs.  Ashton.  But  she  did  not  like  to 
speak  out  all  that  was  in  her  mind  to  these 
girls  who  were  so  much  older,  and  might  be 
flupposed  to  be  so  much  wiser  than  herself. 

"  Will  you  do  this  for  lame  Jemmy  ?  "  said 
Kate.  "Make  haste  and  tell  us!  There  is 
no  doubt  of  your  gaining  the  prize  for  him,  if 
we  all  promise  you  our  votes,  you  know." 

"  You  are  very  wicked  and  cruel  if  you  do 
not,"  said  Mary.  "How  can  you  ever  look 


i88  Bessie  at  School. 

the  poor  fellow  in  the  face  again,  and  remem- 
ber that  you  refused  to  give  him  a  chance  of 
being  cured  ?  For  if  you  will  not  do  this  little 
favor  for  us,  you  need  not  look  for  the  votes 
from  this  room." 

"  We  don't  ask  you  to  say  what  is  not  true," 
said  Kate :  "  you  have  only  to  keep  silence,  if 
Mrs.  Ashton  speaks.  There  is  nothing  wrong 
in  that.  Indeed,  it  is  only  right  for  you  to  do 
so,  when  you  will  gain  this  great  help  for  your 
lame  friend." 

Poor  Bessie!  It  was  the  first  time  in  all 
her  little  life  that  she  had  been  even  tempted 
to  do  or  say  what  was  not  true ;  but  this  was 
a  sore  trial.  She  had  thought  so  much  of 
lame  Jemmy,  longed  so  to  earn  the  prize  for 
his  sake ;  and  now  she  was  sure  of  it,  if  she 
would  but  —  what  ? 

Act  a  lie!  or,  at  least,  help  to  cover  a 
shameful  deception !  Yes,  it  was  that !  She 
could  not  hide  the  truth  from  her  own  con- 
science. Kate  told  her  that  it  was  right; 
they  were  all  trying  to  persuade  her  to  do 


The  Broken  Clod  189- 

wrong,  that  good  might  come  of  it,  —  trying  to 
make  her  think  that  it  was  really  her  duty ; 
and  for  a  moment,  it  did  seem  hard  to  decide 
what  she  ought  to  do. 

But  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  Bessie  had 
watched  and  prayed  that  she  might  not  enter 
into  temptation ;  and  she  was  not  suffered  to 
fall.  Her  honest,  truthful  little  soul  saw  it  all 
clearly.  Helping  Jemmy  was  not  "  God's 
work,"  if  it  led  her  into  sin  against  Him. 
Truth  .first,  before  all  things :  to  speak  truth, 
to  act  truth. 

"  There  !  "  said  Kate,  as  the  child  hesitated 
for  that  instant :  "  I  thought  you'd  be  a  good 
child,  and  do  as  we  wanted  you  to.  She 
promises,  girls." 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  with  her  color  coming 
and  going,  and  pressing  her  little  hands  tight- 
ly together :  "  I  can't,  Miss  Kate  ;  not  even  for 
lame  Jemmy,  —  not  even  if  you  never  love  me 
any  more,  or  speak  to  me  again.  It  would  not 
be  true." 

"It  is  not  telling  a  story,  I  tell  you,"  said 


190  Bessie  at  School. 

Kate,  sharply,  as  she  heard  the  rest  of  the 
class  in  the  hall  below,  and  knew  that  in  an 
other  moment  it  would  be  too  late. 

"  But  it  would  be  behaving  a  stoiy,"  said 
Bessie,  "  'cause  it  would  be  letting  Mrs.  Ash- 
ton  believe  I  didn't  know  about  it.  I  can't 
see  why  it  is  not  just  the  same ;  and  I  know 
Jesus  would  be  sorry  to  have  me  earn  the 
prize  for  Jemmy  that  way." 

"  Go,  then,"  said  Kate,  suddenly  lifting  the 
child  down  from  the  desk,  and  placing  her  on 
her  feet :  "  go,  then !  you  are  no  pet  of  mine 
after  this:  I  want  nothing  more  to  do  with 
you." 

"  That  won't  trouble  her,"  said  Mary,  with 
a  sneer.  "  A  fine  pretence  of  affection  she  has 
made  for  you,  only  to  serve  you  in  this  way, 
Kate ! " 

"  Bessie,  your  nurse  is  waiting  for  you," 
said  Miss  Laura  Jones,  who  just  then  entered 
the  room.  "  Why,  what  is  the  matter  ? "  as 
she  saw  the  little  one's  troubled  face,  and 
those  of  the  elder  girls  flushed  and  angry. 


The  Broken   Clock. 


191 


"  The  matter  is,  that  here  is  a  mean,  hate- 
ful, little  telltale,"  said  Fanny. 

"  Take  care  what  you  do  before  her,  or  she 
will  run  and  tell  Mrs.  Ashton,"  said  Mary. 

Ah !  how  hard  it  was  to  keep  back  the 
angry  words  that  were  rising  to  her  lips ;  not 
to  tell  those  great  girls  what  she  thought  of 
them  ! 

"  Why,  how  is  this,  my  dears  ?  "  said  Mrs. 
Ashton,  coming  in,  and  looking  round  in  sur- 
prise. "  I  thought  Monsieur  Gaufrau  was 
here." 

"  He  did  come  in,  ma'am,"  said  Mary  Mer- 
ton,  demurely,  and  with  an  air  of  perfect  inno- 
cence ;  "  but  he  had  forgotten  a  book,  and 
thought  he  had  time  to  go  for  it." 

Mrs.  Ashton  looked  at  the  clock,  then  took 
out  her  watch. 

"  The  clock  is  too  slow,"  she  said.  "  No, 
it  has  stopped !  That  accounts  for  his  mis- 
take. I  must  really  hare  it  put  in  order." 

Not  a  word  was  spoken.  Bessie,  quite  for 
getting  in  her  anxiety  that  Jane  was  waiting 


192  Bessie  at  School. 

for  her,  stood  looking  from  one  to  another,  as 
Mrs.  Ashton  examined  the  clock,  touching  it 
with  a  kind  of  reverent  affection ;  but  not  one 
of  those  who  were  in  the  secret  would  mee* 
the  child's  eye. 

Maggie  came  in  to  see  why  Bessie  did  no 
come ;  and  feeling  as  if  she  could  not  part 
with  Kate  in  such  an  angry  mood,  the  little 
girl  went  up  to  her,  and  slipped  her  hand  in 
hers ;  but  Kate  pushed  her  from  her,  and 
Bessie  turned  away  with  a  swelling  heart. 

Suddenly  Julia  Grafton,  who  had  not  spoken 
while  the  others  were  tempting  Bessie,  caught 
the  child  in  her  arms  as  she  passed,  and  kiss- 
ing her  warmly,  whispered,  "  You  are  right, 
Bessie :  I  wish  I  were  as  brave  as  you." 


IX. 


THE    CONFESSION. 

10NSIEUR  Gaufrau  found  his  claps 
unusually  troublesome  that  morning. 
Julia  and  -Kate,  generally  the  two 
brightest  and  quickest  of  all  his  scholars, 
seemed  now  the  most  inattentive  and  dull ; 
answering  so  at  random,  and  appearing  to  pay 
so  little  heed  to  what  they  were  doing  and 
saying,  as  to  make  it  very  evident  that  their 
thoughts  were  taken  up  with  something  quite 
different  from  their  lessons.  As  for  luckless 
Fanny,  her  exercise  was  only  half  written,  and 
full  of  mistakes ;  and  she  stumbled  through 
the  recitations  in  a  disgraceful  manner.  Mary 
Merton  could  repeat  her  lessons  ;  but  her  con- 
duct was  careless  and  defiant,  and  once,  when 
the  professor  reproved  her  slightly,  very  im- 
pertinent. 

18 


194  Bessie  at  School. 

The  old  gentleman's  patience  was  quite  at 
an  end.  Bad  marks  —  sadly  deserved,  too  — 
went  down  to  the  credit  of  all  four ;  and  tho 
long  threatened  complaint  to  Mrs.  Ashton  wa? 
made,  including  Mary  as  well  as  Fanny. 

"  Much  any  one  has  gained  by  that  per 
formancc  of  to-day,"  said  Julia  Grafton,  as 
she  and  her  three  guilty  companions  stood 
together  at  the  corner  of  the  Square,  after 
school  was  dismissed.  "  Fanny  certainly  is  no 
better  off,  and  here  are  three  more  of  us  in 
trouble  through  the  worry  and  fuss  of  it." 

"  Why  don't  you  preach  a  sermon  on  it,  and 
take  as  a  text,  '  The  way  of  transgressors  is 
hard '  ?  "  said  Mary  Merton,  scornfully. 

"  And  so  she  might  with  truth,"  said  Kate 
"  I  am  sure  we  are  finding  it  so." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  said  Fanny :  "  if  you  think  it 
such  an  awful  sin  just  to  move  back  the  hands 
of  the  clock  a  little,  what  did  you  do  it  for  ?  "  . 

"  Because  I  did  not  think"  said  Kate,  sadly. 
"  Oh  !  if  I  only  had,  I  should  never  have  done 
it.  And  now  how  are  we  to  get  out  of  ;be 


The  Confession.  195 

difficulty?  Why  didn't  I  tell  Mrs.  Ashton  at 
once  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  see  where  the  difficulty  is,  if  only 
Bessie  Bradford  does  not  betray  us,"  said 
Mary.  "  Mrs.  Ashton  suspects  nothing,  and 
is  not  likely  to  ask  any  questions  now.  Tn 
spite  of  my  fright,  I  could  not  help  laughing 
to  see  those  two  complimenting  one  another. 
Monsieur  bowing  and  scraping,  and  assuring 
Mrs.  Ashton  that  he  was  '  desole  '  at  being  so 
late ;  and  Madam,  with  her  gracious  air,  ex- 
cusing him,  and  blaming  the  poor  clock.  The 
only  thing  I  am  afraid  of  is  that  child." 

"  She  has  told  it  all  at  home  by  this  time," 
said  Fanny. 

"  Not  she,"  said  Kate.  "  She  promised  she 
wouldn't." 

"  '  Promised ! '  "  repeated  Mary :  "  she  only 
did  that  because  she  was  afraid  of  us.  I'll 
answer  for  it,  she  told  the  whole  story  the 
moment  she  was  safely  with  Maggie  and  her 
nurse." 

"  '  Afraid ! '  "  repeated  Julia  in  her  turn :  "  1 


ic)6  Bessie  at  School. 

wish  any  one  of  us  had  one  half  little  Bes- 
sie's moral  courage  and  simple  honesty.  "We 
threatened  her  and  tempted  her,  —  and  all  of 
us  who  have  seen  how  eager  she  is  to  earn 
that  prize  for  the  lame  boy,  know  how  great 
the  temptation  was,  —  but  she  could  not  be 
turned  from  the  straightforward  truth.  She 
has  shamed  us  all,  girls ! " 

"  Oh !  it  is  very  easy  for  you  to  talk,  Julia 
Grafton,"  said  Fanny.  "  You  did  not  touch 
the  clock,  and  had  no  hand  in  the  mischief." 

"  No ;  or  I  should  feel  that  I  could  go  at 
once  and  tell  Mrs.  Ashton.  As  it  is,  I  can- 
not." 

"  You  would  have  no  right  to  do  it !  "  ex 
claimed  Mary,  with  a  look  at  Kate's  downcast 
face.  "  It  is  share,  and  share  alike  with  us. 
If  you  chose  to  bring  trouble  on  yourself,  you 
would  have  no  right  to  do  it,  on  account  of 
the  rest." 

"  I  do  not  say  that  I  should  do  it,"  said  Julia. 
"  I  have  not  so  much  courage  as  little  Bessie. 
But  it  is  not  Mrs.  Ashton  I  am  afraid  of." 


fhe  Confession.  197 

"  Of  course  not,"  said  Mary :  "  you  are  a 
favorite  with  Mrs.  Ashton.  But  what  are  you 
afraid  of,  if  not  of  her  ?  " 

"  Of  the  ridicule  and  anger  of  the  rest," 
said  Julia,  coloring  deeply.  "  You  called  Bes- 
sie hard  names,  and  threatened  to  send  her  to 
Coventry.  You  would  do  the  same  by  me,  I 
suppose,  if  I  do  not  help  you  out  in  this ;  and 
I  cannot  face  it  as  she  did,  though  I  own  I  am 
ashamed  of  this  cowardice.  She  felt  it  too, 
poor  little  thing !  .  Kate,  did  you  see  her 
pleading  look  at  you  ? " 

"  Yes,"  answered  Kate.  "  Girls,  I  wish 
this  day's  work  could  be  undone." 

"  Well,  it  can't,"  said  Fanny  ;  "  and  if  you 
think  Bessie  is  safe,  I  don't  see  why  you  fret 
about  it." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,"  said  Mary,  "  wo 
must  all  bind  ourselves  by  a  solemn  promise 
not  to  say  a  word  about  it,  whether  questions 
are  asked  or  no.  Yes,  I  believe  Bessie  will 
keep  her  word,  for  we  all  know  how  squeam- 
ish she  is.  Mrs.  Ashton  will  never  suspect 


198  Bessie  at  School. 

her,  even  if  she  remembers  she  was  in  the 
room ;  and  the  worst  we  have  to  fear  is  some 
kind  of  general  inquiry,  which  can  easily  be 
passed  over.  Let  us  bind  one  another  to 
silence." 

It  was  done,  Mary  and  Fanny  giving  their 
word  for  this  with  much  energy,  Julia  more 
slowly,  and  Kate  with  a  hesitation  and  un- 
willingness which  provoked  the  ridicule  of  the 
two  first ;  and  then  they  parted,  Mary  and 
Fanny  going  one  way,  Kate  and  Julia  another. 

Meanwhile,  Bessie  had  gone  home  with  a 
heavy  heart.  Maggie  and  Jane  both  noticed 
how  dull  she  was,  but  could  not  find  out  what 
ailed  her ;  though  the  former  seemed  rather 
hurt  that  Bessie  should  have  any  secret  from 
her. 

Mrs.  Bradford,  too,  saw  that  her  little  girl 
was  not  in  her  customary  spirits ;  and  when 
she  found  that  she  did  not,  as  usual,  give  her 
an  account  of  all  that  had  passed  in  school 
that  morning,  she  asked  her  if  she  were  "  in 
any  trouble." 


The  Confession,  199 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  said  Bessie.  "  I  have  a 
very  great  weight  on  my  mind,  and  it  makes  it 
worse  because  I  can't  tell  you ;  but  it  is  not 
my  own  secret,  and  so  I  s'pose  it's  not  for  me 
lo  talk  about." 

"  You  have  not  been  doing  any  thing  wrong 
in  school,  dear  ?  " 

"  No,  mamma :  I  think  not.  I  did  want  to 
do  what  was  wrong  for  a  moment,  'cause  it 
seemed  as  if  it  would  be  a  great  help  to  a  good 
thing  ;  but  I  asked  Jesus  to  help  me  to  know 
what  He  would  like  me  to  do,  and  I  think  He 
did  let  me  see  it  would  not  be  His  work  if  it 
came  by  a  wicked  way." 

"  But  you  are  not  sorry  now,  dear,  that  you 
were  not  suffered  to  do  wrong  that  good  might 
come  of  it  ?  " 

"No,  mamma :  I  am  very  glad,  and  very 
much  grateful ;  but  I  feel  sorry  about  some 
other  people.  I  think  they  fell  into  a  very 
bad  temptation,  and  did  not  try  to  get  out 
of  it." 

"  Well,  I  will  not  ask  yon  any  more,  since 


2OO  Bessie  at  School. 

you  do  not  feel  at  liberty  to  speak  about  it," 
said  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  I  feel  very  badly  not  to  tell  you,  mamma  ; 
but  it  was  of  accident  that  I  was  there  and 
savr  it,  and  I  did  not  quite  know  what  was  the 
rightest  thing  to  do  where  it  was  not  my  own 
secret.-  And  there  were  a  good  many  troubles 
about  it,  and  they  all  came  so  fast,  and  it 
made  a  great  trouble  in  my  mind  ;  and  so 
maybe  I  made  a  mistake  to  say  I  would  not 
tell  you.  But,  indeed,  mamma,  I  did  not 
mean  to  be  naughty." 

"  I  do  not  believe  you  did,  my  darling ;  and 
we  will  not  say  another  word  about  it,  except 
that  you  may  always  be  sure  that  the  safest 
rule  is  to  have  no  secrets  from  your  mother." 

Mrs.  Bradford  could  give  a  pretty  good  guess 
at  the  cause  of  Bessie's  trouble,  though  not,  of 
course,  at  the  particulars.  She  knew  that  her 
little  girl  was  a  great  pet  and  plaything  of  the 
elder  scholars ;  and  she  saw  plainly,  from 
what  Bessie  had  innocently  said,  that  they 
were  in  some  scrape  into  which  they  had  tried 


The  Confession.  201 

to  draw  the  child,  or  at  least  to  make  her  hide 
it ;  and,  also,  that  the  little  one's  honest, 
truthful  spirit  had  been  shocked  and  grieved 
at  the  want  of  honor  in  her  schoolmates.  Bes- 
sie was  thoughtful  and  out  of  spirits  all  day, 
and  really  dreaded  the  coming  of  school-time 
the  next  morning.  But  she  would  not  ask  her 
mother  to  let  her  stay  at  home,  for  she  wanted 
to  know  for  herself  if  any  farther  trouble  had 
arisen  about  the  clock ;  and,  more  than  this, 
the  brave  little  soul  had  a  feeling  that  if  she 
staid  away,  the  girls  might  think  she  did  so  to 
avoid  any  questions,  and  was  afraid  to  tell  the 
truth. 

She  wondered  how  Kate  Maynard  would 
meet  her,  and  if  she  would  really  keep  her 
threat  of  not  speaking  to  her,  or  noticing  her ; 
and  it  was  with  a  beating  heart  that  she  saw 
the  young  lady  coming  down  the  street  as  she 
and  Maggie  went  up  Mrs.  Ashton's  stoop  the 
next  morning. 

But  she  found  that  Kate  had  forgotten  her 
threat,  or  thought  better  of  it ,  for  she  came 


202  Bessie  at  School. 

up  and  met  her  as  usual  No  not  as  usual 
either ;  for  Kate's  manner  was  half  hesitating 
and  constrained,  as  if  she  were  doubtful  of  the 
greeting  she  should  receive  from  Bessie.  Her 
frolicsome  spirits  seemed  to  have  flown  .a\vay  ; 
and  Maggie,  looking  up  to  the  brilliant  black 
eyes,  wondered  to  see  how  they  had  lost  their 
merry  light. 

Thoughtless  and  inconsiderate  as  she  was, 
Kate  Maynard  was  not  accustomed  to  deceit 
and  meanness,  and  they  sat  uneasily  upon  her 
conscience. 

The  children  went  to  their  school-room,  Kate 
to  hers ;  and  both  her  eyes  and  Bessie's  in- 
stantly sought  the  clock.  It  was  gone  ! 

Kate  had  the  back  room  to  herself  just  then, 
for  those  of  her  class  who  had  arrived  w.cro 
gathered  in  the  hall  or  cloak-room ;  and  re- 
fusing their  invitations  to  join  them,  she 
wandered  to  the  window,  and  stood  listlessly 
gazing  out. 

Bessie  watched  her  for  a  moment  through 
the  open  doors,  and  then  going  up  to  her, 


The  Confession.  203 

touched  her  hand,  and  said  in  a  wistful,  plead- 
ing tone,  — 

"  Katie  ?  " 

There  was  an  unspoken  question  in  the  one 
\ncrd,  and  Kate  heard  and  felt  it.  But  she 
had  no  answer  for  it,  nor  could  she  meet  the 
clear,  steadfast  eyes  that  were  raised  to  her 
face.  She  did  not  withdraw  her  hand  from 
Bessie's ;  but  neither  did  she  seem  to  notice 
the  child,  and  stood  steadily  gazing  out  of  the 
window,  but  seeing  nothing. 

Bessie  longed  to  say  something,  but  she 
could  not  seem  to  find  words  for  what  was  in 
her  heart ;  and  while  she  hesitated,  the  other 
girls  flocked  in.  Mrs.  and  Miss  Ashton  came 
too :  the  bell  was  rung ;  and  all  must  go  to 
their  seats. 

School  was  opened ;  but  the  folding-doors 
were  not  closed  as  usual,  when  this  was  over. 

Rapping  upon  the  table  with  a  paper-folder, 
to  call  the  attention  of  all  in  both  the  rooms, 
Mrs.  Ashton  began,  — 

''  I  have  a  few  words  to  say  before  the  busi- 


204  Bessie  at  School. 

ness  of  the  morning  commences  ;  but  I  would 
first  ask  if  any  one  here  has  a  confession  to 
make  to  me." 

She  paused  for  a  few  moments,  while  a  dead 
silence  reigned  in  both  rooms.  Five  of  the 
twenty  girls  gathered  there  knew  well  what 
she  meant,  but  not  a  voice  broke  the  stillness ; 
while  those  who  were  ignorant  looked  from 
one  to  another  in  great  astonishment. 

Mrs.  Ashton  went  on. 

"  Yesterday  morning  the  clock,  which  usual- 
ly stands  upon  that  mantel-piece,  was  in  good 
order.  I  wound  and  set  it  with  my  own 
hands ;  but  at  noon  it  was  found  to  have 
stopped,  thereby,  as  all  of  the  older  class  are 
aware,  misleading  Monsieur  Gaufrau,  and  mak 
ing  him  late  for  his  lesson.  The  clock  had 
been  wrong  once  before,  and  not  wishing  it 
should  be  so  again,  I  took  it  to  the  clock- 
maker.  He  examined  it  before  I  left  the  store, 
and  said  at  once  that  it  had  been  seriously 
injured,  —  so  seriously  that  it  was  doubtful  if  it 
could  be  repaired  ;  and  that  these  injuries  had 


The  Confession.  205 

come  from  a  fall  or  heavy  blow,  he  thought 
the  former ;  and  that  it  was  quite  impossible 
that  the  hands,  which  had  stopped  at  ten 
minutes  past  twelve,  could  have  moved  after 
the  works  had  been  so  shattered.  I  must 
therefore  believe  that  the  injury  was  received 
at  that  time ;  and  that  as  some,  if  not  all  of 
you,  were  in  the  room,  that  there  are  those 
among  you  who  know  of  it.  Most  of  the  little 
ones  had  gone  home ;  I  think  all  but  Maggie 
and  Bessie  Bradford.  Maggie  was  at  her 
music-lesson  ;  Bessie  could  not  have  reached 
the  clock,  and  I  think,"  —  she  looked  kindly 
at  Bessie,  —  "I  think  if  any  harm  had 
happened  to  it  through  her  means,  that  she 
would  have  come  at  once,  and  confessed  it. 
Therefore,  we  may  put  the  little  girls  out  of 
the  question  ;  but  if  any  one  among  them 
knows  any  thing  and  chooses  to  speak,  she 
may  do  so,  though  I  shall  not  compel  her." 

Bessie  drew  a  long  sigh  of  relief,  and  so  did 
more  than  one  of  the  elder  girls. 

Poor  little  child!  She  had  s/>  dreaded  thai 


2o6  Bessie  at  School. 

Mrs.  Ashton  would  ask  her  questions  to  which 
she  felt  that  she  must  give  a  straightforward 
and  plain  answer ;  or  that  she  would,  at  least, 
say  something  which  would  oblige  her  to 
speak ;  and  own  that  she  had  been  in  the  room, 
and  seen  the  accident. 

And  Bessie  was  as  unwilling  as  any  little 
girl  could  be,  to  draw  upon  herself  the  ill-will 
of  her  schoolmates.  She  wanted  to  be  loved 
by  all  about  her ;  and,  as  you  know,  was  an 
affectionate,  clinging  child,  accustomed  to  be 
petted  and  treated  with  all  tenderness.  So 
her  little  heart  had  been  very  downcast  at  the 
thought  of  the  cold  looks  and  words,  and 
unkind  behavior,  which  she  feared  would  fall 
to  her  share  if  she  should  feel  herself  obliged 
to  tell  what  she  knew;  and  she  was  very 
grateful  to  Mrs.  Ashton  for  sparing  her  from 
this. 

The  lady  paused  again  to  give  any  one  who 
chose  to  speak  the  opportunity  to  do  so ;  but 
all  were  silent. 

"  T  shall  put  the  question  to  each  of  you  in 


77/61  Confession.  .  207 

turn,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  "  trusting  that  none 
of  you  are  so  hardened  as  to  tell  a  deliberate 
falsehood,  however  you  may  have  reconciled 
your  consciences  to  a  deceitful  silence.  Ella 
Leroy,  did  you  break  the  clock,  or  have  you 
any  knowledge  of  how  it  was  done  ?  " 

Mrs.  Ashton's  manner  was  stern,  and  her 
tone  severe,  as  they  were  apt  to  be  when  she 
was  displeased ;  and  all  of  the  little  girls  felt 
thankful  that  they  were  not  to  be  questioned. 
Maggie  thought  she  could  not  possibly  have 
answered  as  much  as  "  No  ; "  and  it  frightened 
her  even  to  hear  Mrs.  Ashton's  voice. 

But  Ella  Leroy  answered  promptly, — 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  Bertha  Stockton,  do  you  ?" 

"  No,  ma'am." 

"  Mary  Morton,  do  you  ?  " 

"  No,  ma'am,"  came,  with  equal  readiness, 
from  Mary's  lips. 

Bessie's  heart  beat  fast,  and  for  a  moment 
her  eyes  fell  as  though  she  herself  had  beeu 
the  guilty  one. 


208  Bessie  at  School. 

One  or  two  more  answered  with  truth  that 
they  knew  nothing  of  the  matter,  and  then, — 

"  Fanny  Berry  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Ashton. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  answered  Fanny,  but  not  as 
holdly  as  Mary  had  done ;  for  she  was  not 
used  to  open  falsehood,  and  it  did  not  come 
readily  to  her.  Mrs.  Ashton  looked  steadily 
at  her  for  a  moment ;  then  passed  on  to 
the  next. 

"  Kate  Maynard  ?  " 

To  the  astonishment  of  all,  to  the  anger  of 
some,  and  to  the  relief  and  delight  of  one  little 
heart,  Kate  rose  slowly,  and  answered,  "  Yes, 
ma'am." 

"  You  know  who  did  it  ?  " 

"  I  did  it  myself,  madam." 

Mrs.  Ashton  looked  grieved,  as  well  as  snr- 
prised. 

"  You,  Kate  ?  and  yet  you  kept  silence  wnen 
1  asked  for  confession  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  Kate,  steadily,  yet  not 
boldly  or  defiantly  after  her  usual  manner  of 
receiving  reproof  from  her  teachers ;  "and  I 


77*£  Confession.  209 

am  afraid  I  should  still  hay   kept  silence,  if 
you  had  not  asked  me  so  directly." 

"  I  did  not  look  for  this  from  you,  Kate," 
said  Mrs.  Ashton,  slowly.  "  Heedless  as  I 
know  you  to  be,  I  did  not  believe  you  capable 
of  even  an  acted  deceit." 

Kate  hung  her  head  in  shame,  thinking  that 
she  not  only  would  have  been  guilty  of  this 
herself,  but  that  she  had  tried  to  draw  an  in- 
nocent young  child  into  the  same  sin.  But  the 
little  one  had  stood  firmly  to-  the  right,  refus- 
ing, in  her  own  simple  language,  even  to  "  be- 
have a  story."  And  the  trial  and  temptation 
had  been  far  greater  in  her  case  than  in  that 
of  her  older  schoolmates.  The  last  proof  of 
her  steadfastness  had,  happily  for  her,  not  been 
needed ;  but  Kate  knew  Avell  enough,  that 
neither  would  that  have  failed,  had  it  been 
called  for. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Ashton. 

"I  had  the  clock  in  my  hands,"  answered 
Kate,  "  and,  as  I  went  to  put  it  in  its  place,  it 
fell  from  them." 

14 


2io  Bessie  at  School. 

"  And  how  came  you  to  have  the  clook  in 
your  hands  ?  What  were  you  doing  with  it  ?  " 

"I  wanted  to  put  back  the  hands." 

"  And  why,  may  I  ask  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Ashton, 
in  astonishment.  "  Did  you  imagine  that  T 
should  not  find  that  the  clock  was  wrong  ?  " 

"I  —  we  —  I,"  stammered  Kate,  fearing  to 
betray  the  others  who  would  not  speak  for 
themselves,  and  yet  feeling  that  she  could 
scarcely  avoid  doing  so  ;  "I  wanted  Monsieur 
Gaufrau  to  be  —  to  think  he  was  too  early,  so 
as  to  gain  a  little  more  time  before  the  French 
lesson." 

"  And  one  acted  deceit  thus  led  to  another," 
said  Mrs.  Ashton.  "It  is  generally  the  way. 
Your  lessons  were  not  ready  then,  I  take  it; 
and  you  wished  dishonestly,  yes,  dishonestly, 
Kate,  to  gain  more  time  to  prepare  them." 

"  My  lessons  for  Monsieur  Gaufrau  were 
ready,"  said  Kate,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Then  you  have  not  even  this  poor  excited, 
but  were  guilty  of  this  foolish  deception  mere- 
ly that  you  might  have  a  few  minutes  more  foi 


The  Confession.  211 

play  and  idle  talk.  You  will  remain  and  see 
me  after  school.  Had  any  of  the  others  any 
part  in  it  ?  " 

"  Excuse  me,  madam,"  said  Kate.  "  I  have 
answered  for  myself.  Allow  the  rest  to  do 
the  same." 

Bessie  could  hardly  keep  still.  Pity  for 
Kate,  —  for  going  to  Mrs.  Ashton  after  schoo! 
seemed  a  very  terrible  thing  to  the  little  chil 
dren,  who  were  all  rather  in  awe  of  the  lady's 
grave,  somewhat  stern  manner,  —  indignation 
at  those  who  were  allowing  more  than  her  OWP 
share  of  blame  to  fall  on  her,  and  the  strong 
desire  to  come  to  her  relief  by  telling  what 
she  knew,  were  almost  too  much  for  the  little 
girl.  But  she  could  not  break  her  promise  to 
say  nothing  unless  she  were  asked,  and  so  felt 
obliged  to  hold  her  peace. 

Mrs.  Ashton  passed  on  to  the  next. 

"  Julia  Grafton,  had  you  any  hand  in  this  ?  " 

"  I  knew  of  it,  ma'am ;  but  I  had  nothing 
more  than  that  to  do  with  it." 

"  Julia  forgets,"  said  Kate,  quickly.    '•  She 


212  Bessie  at  School. 

tried  to  dissuade  me  from  it,  but  I  would  not 
listen.  She  was  not  at  all  to  blame,  Mrs. 
Ashtou." 

Fanny  could  keep  silence  no  longer ;  her 
better  feelings  mastered  her  shame  and  fear, 
and  rising,  she  stammered  out,  "I  —  I  —  Mrs. 
Ashton  —  it  was  me  —  my  lesson  —  I  was  not 
ready  —  it  was  my  fault  —  I  suggested  " —  and 
here  Fanny's  voice  was  lost  amid  tears  and 
sobs. 

Bessie  began  to  cry  too:  Maggie  put  her 
arms  about  her  and  joined  in,  and  Belle  and 
Lily  each  put  up  a  grieved  lip  in  sympathy. 
Miss  Ashton,  seeing  the  disturbed  state  of  her 
little  flock,  rose  hastily,  and  after  whispering 
to  her  mother,  closed  the  doors ;  and  no  more 
was  heard  of  what  passed  in  the  other  room. 

Miss  Ashton  had  wished  from  the  first,  that 
the  elder  girls  should  be  examined  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  little  ones,  but  her  mother 
had  decided  otherwise  ;  and  the  great  Teacher 
above  had  overruled  her  wish  for  His  own  pur- 
poses, for  He  had  a  little  instrument  of  His 


The  Confession.  213 

own  unconsciously  working  for  Him,  and  lead- 
ing a  wavering  heart  into  the  ways  of  truth 
by  the  light  of  her  own  steady  example. 

But  Miss  Ashton,  knowing  nothing  of  this, 
was  sorry  that  her  lambs  had  heard  so  much  ; 
especially  when  she  found  that  their  mindg 
were  quite  distracted,  and  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  settle  them  to  the  business  of 
the  day.  She  had  to  overlook  a  good  many 
things  that  morning. 

She  was  all  the  more  sorry  when,  as  Mag- 
gie and  Bessie  were  going  downstairs  with 
Jane,  on  their  way  home,  she  heard  the  former 
say,  "  Bessie,  I'm  not  going  to  say  any  thing 
unkind  about  Mrs.  Ashton ;  but  when  I  say 
my  prayers  to-night,  I'm  just  going  to  tell '  our 
Father '  how  very  thankful  I  am  that  He  did 
not  give  her  to  me  for  my  teacher.  I'm  very 
sure  she'd  bring  down  my  hair  with  sorrow  to 
the  grave,  if  she  was." 


X. 

A   LITTLE   LIGHT. 

1  ESSIE  would  have  liked  to  have  had  a 
word  or  two  with  Kate  during  recess, 
but  when  she  peeped  into  the  other 
room,  she  saw  all  the  rest  of  the  girls  gath- 
ered around  her ;  and  not  caring  to  talk,  or  to 
be  talked  to  by  them,  she  ran  away  again  with- 
out being  noticed,  and  followed  her  sister 
down  to  the  music-room. 

The  girls  of  the  older  class  were  all  in  a 
state  of  great  excitement  over  the  trouble  of 
the  morning.  Some  were  anxious,  some  pity- 
ing, some  saying  that  Mrs.  Ashton  was  mak- 
ing a  great  fuss  about  a  trifle.  Fanny  Berry, 
who  had  been  weeping  and  sobbing  at  inter- 
vals through  all  the  lesson-hours,  was  now 
drowned  in  a  fresh  flood  of  tears,  and  bewail- 
ing her  hard  fate  in  having  to  go  to  Mrs.  Ash- 
ton  "  for  a  lecture  "  after  school. 


A  Little  Light.  215 

*'  AJ  d  I  suppose  she'll  complain  to  my  far 
ther,  t</o,"  she  moaned.  "  She  has  been  say- 
ing she  would  do  so  the  next  time  any  of  the 
masters  reported  me ;  and  now  she'll  tell  him 
this,  —  the  hateful  old  thing !  —  and  he  won't 
let  me  go  to  the  birthday-party  at  my  aunt's. 
Oh,  Kate  !  why  did  you  tell  ?  You  promised 
you  would  not ;  you  promised  !  Of  course,  I 
could  not  let  Mrs.  Ashton  go  on  giving  you 
more  than  your  own  share  of  blame,  and  so  I 
was  forced  to  speak.  It's  just  as  Mary  said  it 
would  be  if  any  one  told  their  own  part.  It 
must  needs  bring  the  rest  into  trouble ;  and 
after  we  two  had  denied  it  too !  You  ought  to 
have  stood  by  us." 

"  Were  you  in  it  too,  Mary  ?  "  asked  Ella 
Leroy ;  and  she,  as  well  as  most  of  the  others, 
looked  at  Mary  in  shocked  surprise.  To  some 
of  them,  it  was  no  very  great  matter  that  the 
four  who  had  had  any  share  in  the  accident  to 
the  clock  should  shrink  from  confessing  it,  or 
even  keep  silence  when  Mrs.  Ashton  had 
asked  who  had  done  it ;  but  a  deliberate  denial 


216  Bessie  at  School. 

of  their  guilt  was  quite  anotl  icr  thing.  They 
deservedly  blamed  Fanny  fcr  her  first  false- 
hood ;  but  they  had  the  feeling  that  she  had 
half  redeemed  her  sin  when  she  had,  at  the 
risk  of  such  shame  and  mortification  to  her- 
self, acknowledged  that,  and  her  former  fault, 
rather  than  allow  Kate  to  receive  a  more  se- 
vere reproof  than  she  merited.  But  Mary, 
who  it  seemed  had  been  as  much  to  blame  as 
the  others,  had  not  even  then  been  shamed 
into  telling  the  truth,  and  had  still  let  Mrs. 
Ashton  believe  her  innocent. 

She  was  heartily  ashamed  of  it  now ;  but  she 
did  not  choose  to  let  that  be  seen,  and  carried 
matters  with  a  high  hand,  tossing  her  head, 
and  declaring  that  she  was  "  not  going  to  be 
such  a  fool  as  to  get  herself  into  difficulty  just 
because  Kate  and  Fanny  chose  to  do  it."  She 
reproached  Kate  bitterly  for  breaking  her 
promise,  and  so  did  Fanny ;  both  saying  that 
all  would  have  been  well  if  she  had  not  dono 

BO. 

"  1  am  sorry,"  said  Kate,  taking  their  up« 


A  Little  Light.  217 

braidings  with  a  meekness  quite  unusual  in 
her.  "  I  am  very  sorry  for  the  punishment  I 
have  brought  upon  you,  girls ;  but  not  sorry 
(hat  I  did  not  — tell  a  lie." 

"  You  should  have  thought  of  that  before," 
said  Mary,  "  and  not  let  Fanny  and  me  tell 
what  you  so  elegantly  call  a  lie,  and  then  set 
yourself  up  for  being  so  truthful.'' 

"  I  do  not  set  myself  up  for  being  truthful," 
said  Kate,  coloring  deeply ;  "  at  least  I  have 
not,  but  with  God's  help,  I  will  from  this  day," 
and  she  looked  steadily  into  Mary's  angry  face. 
"  I  wish,  oh,  how  I  wish !  I  had  spoken  when 
Mrs.  Ashton  asked  the  general  question  of  the 
whole  class,  or  that  she  had  asked  me  first, 
and  even  to  the  moment  when  she  called  my 
name,  I  meant  to  deny  it ;  but  I  could  not 
with  Bessie  Bradford's  eyes  upon  me." 

"  Bessie  Bradford !  little  Bessie  !  and  what 
had  she  to  do  with  it  ?  "  asked  two  or  three  of 
the  girls. 

'  "  She  had  this  much  to  do  with  it,"  said 
Kate,  "  that  she  was  in  the  room  yesterday 


218  Bessie  at  School. 

when  the  clock  was  broken,  and  when  we  re 
solved  to  hide  it,  we  tried  to  make  her  as 
deceitful  as  ourselves  ;  but  we  tempted,  threat- 
ened, and  promised  in  vain.  She  was  not  to 
be  frightened  into  wrong  for  fear  of  the  conse- 
quences of  doing  right ;  and  as  Julia  said,  she, 
baby  as  she  is,  shamed  us  all.  Yes,  shamed 
me  at  least,  and  made  me  feel  what  a  mean 
coward  I  was  beside  her." 

"  You  are  a  coward,  to  be  sure,  if  you  are 
afraid  of  Bessie  Bradford,  or  what  she  could 
do  or  say,"  said  Mary,  pretending  to  misun- 
derstand Kate. 

"  I  was  not  afraid  of  any  thing  she  would  say 
or  do"  said  Kate,  not  noticing  the  contempt- 
uous tone ;  "  but  of  what  she  would  think  of 
me,  of  losing  her  affection  and  respect.  But," 
-  she  went  on  more  slowly  as  if  half  ashamed, 
yet  determined  to  speak  out,  —  "  that  was  not 
all  I  was  afraid  of." 

"  What  else  then  ?  "  asked  Mary. 

"  Of  offending  Bessie's  Master,"  said  Kate. 

She  felt  it  was  a  bold  avowal  to  make  in  the 


A  Little  Light.  219 

presence  of  all  her  classmates,  —  for  her  who 
had  always  been  so  reckless  and  careless, 
sometimes  even  irreverent;  but  she  said  it, 
and  that  with  a  gravity  which  showed  she 
meant  it,  and  that  it  was  no  light  feeling 
which  had  called  it  forth. 

It  was  received  in  astonished  silence  by  the 
rest.  Words  like  these  were  so  new  from 
Kate,  and  there  was  no  need  for  any  one  of 
them  to  ask  what  Master  Bessie  served.  The 
daily  life  of  the  little  child  showed  to  all  about 
her  whose  work  she  delighted  to  do  in  her  own 
simple  way,  which  knew  no  other  rule  than 
what  would  be  pleasing  and  true  to  Him. 

"  But,  Kate,"  said  Ella,  presently,  "  you 
don't  mean  that  you  call  Him  your  Mas- 
ter?" 

"  No,"  said  Kate :  "  I  pretend  to  nothing  of 
the  sort,  and  you  know  it ;  but  when  I  saw 
Bessie  waiting  for  my  answer,  and  knew  of 
what  and  of  whom  she  was  thinking,  I  could 
not  help  feeling  that  another  ear  was  listening 
and  waiting  too;  and  so  —  I  dared  not. 


22O  Bessie  at  School. 

There !  "  and  Kate  drew  up  her  head  defiantly. 
"  You  may  laugh  at  me,  you  may  sneer  at  me, 
you  may  call  this  humbug ;  but  it  is  what  1 
felt,  and  why  I  answered  as  I  did,  and  I  am 
not  ashamed  to  own  it.  I  tell  you,  because 
you  feel,  some  of  you,  that  I  have  meanly 
broken  my  promise.  It  was  a  mean  thing  to 
make  it :  it  would  have  been  meaner  to  keep 
it  than  it  was  to  break  it ;  and  it  was  better 
to  be  false  to  that  promise  than  false  to  my 
own  conscience  and  to  God.  But  I  never 
meant  to  betray  any  one  but  myself;  and, 
Fanny,  I  am  only  too  sorry  if  you  are  worse 
punished  for  what  I  have  done ;"  and  she 
held  out  her  hand  to  her  schoolmate. 

Fanny  was  vexed  as  well  as  distressed,  but 
she  could  not  resist  Kate's  frankness ;  and  she 
laid  l.er  hand  in  hers,  saying,  "  I  suppose  I 
ought  not  to  complain  :  it  was  my  fault  in  the 
first  place." 

Not  one  of  the  girls  had  laughed,  not  one 
had  sneered ;  not  one  but  had  been  more  or 
less  touched  by  Kate's  unusual  earnestness, 


A  Little  Light,  221 

and  the  way  in  which  she  had  set  herself  to 
atone  for  her  past  fault. 

"  Kate  would  think  we  were  all  perfect,  if 
we  took  Bessie  Bradford  for  our  pattern,"  said 
one,  half  jokingly,  but  not  unkindly. 

"Not  exactly,"  said  Kate,  smiling;  "but  I 
believe  if  we  took  Bessie's  standard  of  right 
and  wrong,  and  tried  to  follow  it  as  truly  as 
she  does,  we  should  not  go  far  out  of  the  way. 
I  would  not  be  ashamed  to  have  it  said  that  I 
had  profited  by  such  an  example.  If  her 
light  is  a  little  one,  it  burns  very  clearly." 

"  But  if  Bessie  had  been  guilty  herself,  do 
you  believe  it  would  have  been  so  impossible 
to  tempt  her  ?  "  said  Fanny.  "  If  she  had 
expected  to  be  punished,  would  she  have  been 
so  ready  to  confess  ?  " 

"  Have  you  forgotten  the  japonica  ?  "  asked 
Kate.  "  I  thought  of  that  too." 

"  What  japonica  ?  "  said  Fanny. 

"Oh,  true !  you  were  not  at  school  that 
day,"  answered  Kate,  laughing  at  the  recollec 
tion.  "  I  will  tell  you." 


222  Bessie  at  School. 

Now  this  was  the  story,  and  as  I  know  more 
about  it  than  Kate,  I  will  tell  you  myself,  in- 
stead of  giving-  it  in  her  words ;  and  to  do 
this,  I  must  go  some  way  back. 

Miss  Ashton  was  in  the  habit  of  giving  a 
few  moments  of  recreation  during  the  morn- 
ing to  her  four  younger  scholars.  Sometimes, 
if  the  day  were  pleasant,  she  let  them  run  on 
the  piazza  or  in  the  old  garden ;  and  when 
she  did  this,  she  used  to  ring  for  Marcia,  the 
colored  servant-girl,  to  come  and  help  the  chil- 
dren put  on  their  wrappings.  Bessie  did  not 
like  this  girl,  she  could  not  tell  exactly  why ; 
but  she  had,  as  yet,  never  allowed  this  dislike 
to  make  her  rude  or  unkind  to  Marcia. 

But  one  day  when  she  was  down  in  the 
music-room  with  Maggie  and  Miss  Ashton, 
she  saw  Marcia  do  something  which  she  thought 
gave  her  good  reason  for  her  dislike.  The 
cook  had  set  a  dish  of  stewed  pears  on  the 
edge  of  the  piazza  to  cool ;  and  Bessie  saw 
Marcia  steal  out  from  the  kitchen,  and  take 
three  of  the  pears,  swallowing  them,  one  after 


A  Little  Light.  223 

the  other,  as  fast  as  possible,  and  then  run 
away.  She  told  Maggie  of  this,  but  they 
agreed  they  would  not  "  tell  tales  about  it "  to 
any  one  else. 

From  that  time,  Bessie  would  never  suffer 
Marcia  to  do  any  thing  for  her.  She  would 
rather  stay  in  the  house  than  allow  the  girl  to 
put  on  her  cloak  or  shoes ;  rather  go  thirsty 
than  take  a  glass  of  water  from  her  hand. 

One  morning,  about  a  week  before  the  affair 
of  the  clock,  Harry  said  at  breakfast,  "  Papa, 
the  police  caught  a  lot  of  burglars  round  in 
the  next  street  last  night." 

"  What  are  burglars  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

'*  Thieves  and  robbers,  who  go  about  break- 
ing into  people's  houses,  and  taking  what  does 
not  belong  to  them,"  said  Harry. 

"  And  did  they  come  into  the  next  street  to 
ours  ?  "  asked  timid  Maggie,  with  wide-open 
eyes. 

"Yes;  but  you  needn't  be  afraid.  They 
wouldn't  take  you  any  way,  and  they  'mosl 
always  get  found  out,  and  taken  to  prison," 


224  Bessie  at  School. 

said  Harry,  thinking  more  of  comforting 
Maggie  than  of  sticking  closely  to  facts. 

"  We  know  a  burglar  that  hasn't  been 
found  out,  and  taken  to  prison :  don't  we, 
Maggie  ?  "  said  Bessie,  gravely.  "  She  burgles 
very  badly  too,  and  when  she  has  done,  she 
licks  her  fingers." 

The  boys  shouted,  and  the  grown  people 
could  not  help  laughing  too. 

"  Don't  be  vexed,  little  daughter,"  said 
papa,  as  he  saw  the  cloud  of  displeasure  over- 
shadow Bessie's  face.  "  Come  and  sit  here 
on  my  knee,  and  tell  us  what  your  burglar 
did." 

"  She's  not  mine  at  all,  papa ;  and  I  am 
glad  she  is  not,  for  I  don't  like  her,  and  she 
is  wicked  too.  Mrs.  Ashton  thinks  she  is 
pretty  good,  but  she  went  and  burgled  three 
pears  out  of  the  dish,  and  eat  them  right  up.'* 

The  boys  were  more  amused  than  ever,  and 
kept  up  their  laughter  till  their  father  told 
them  the  joke  had  lasted  long  enough ;  but  ho 
had  so  much  difficulty  in  keeping  his  own  face 


A  Little  Light.  225 

straight  as  he  thought  of  Bessie's  indignant 
tone  and  look,  and  of  the  way  in  which  she 
had  used  the  word,  that  he  did  not  try  to  ex- 
plain its  proper  meaning  to  her  just  then ; 
and  smiling,  he  kissed  her,  and  said  gently, 
"  If  she  goes  on  doing  such  things,  Bessie, 
she  will  be  found  out  in  time,  and  punished 
too,  though  she  may  not  be  taken  to  prison." 

When  the  little  girls  went  to  school,  the) 
found  Mrs.  Ashton  in  the  cloak-room,  tending 
a  stand  of  plants  which  she  had  just  placed  in 
the  window. 

"  I  hope  none  of  you  will  hurt  my  plants," 
she  said.  "  They  need  the  sun,  and  this  is 
the  best  place  for  them,  so  I  shall  trust  that 
you  will  be  careful  and  not  touch  them. 
There,  I  shall  put  this  bench  here,  and  none 
of  you  must  go  on  the  other  side  of  it.  I 
would  not  have  them  broken  for  a  great  deal, 
especially  this  white  japonica." 

The  one  pure  white  blossom  upon  the  plant 
was  certainly  a  beauty,  and  the  children  did 
aot  wonder  that  Mrs.  Ashton  was  choice  of  it 
15 


226  Bessie  at  Schooi. 

The  day  was  so  mild  and  lovely  that  when 
Miss  Ashton  sent  the  little  ones  out  for  their 
fifteen  minutes'  play,  she  told  them  that  they 
1  ad  all  better  put  their  things  on,  and  run  out 
in  the  fresh  air  ;  and,  as  usual  on  such  occa- 
sions, she  rang  for  Marcia  to  come  and  help 
them. 

Bessie  would  not  let  the  colored  girl  do 
any  thing  for  her ;  but  as  she  was  very  anx- 
ious to  go  in  the  garden  with  her  playmates, 
she  tried  her  best  to  put  on  her  own  things. 
With  Belle's  help,  she  contrived  to  put  on  her 
hat  and  cloak ;  but,  even  with  the  aid  of  the 
other  two,  it  was  found  next  to  impossible  to 
manage  those  troublesome  leggins  with  all 
their  numberless  buttons ;  and  it  took  so 
long  that,  'at  last,  Miss  Ashton,  hearing 
their  voices,  came  to  tell  them  that  they 
were  losing  too  "much  time,  and  must  go 
down  at  once. 

She  found  Bessie  sitting  on  the  bench 
which  stood  before  the  flowers,  and  the  ether 
three  little  girls  all  tugging  and  pulling  away 


A  Little  Light.  227 

at  one  leggin,  while  Marcia  stood  leaning 
against  the  door,  and  laughing. 

"  Bessie,"  said  the  lady,  "  why  do  you  not 
let  Marcia  do  that  for  you  ?  I  want  you  to 
go  down  right  away." 

"  I  don't  want  Marcia  to  do  it,"  answered 
Bessie. 

"You  must  let  her,  or  else  stay  in  the 
house,"  said  Miss  Ashton.  "  I  cannot  have 
the  others  kept  from  their  play  to  help 
you." 

"  We  like  to  help  her,"  said  Belle. 

"  You  must  go  out  at  once,  Bessie.  Will 
you  let  Marcia  help  you,  or  no  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  with  a  pout ;  for  she  was 
not  in  a  good  humor  that  morning,  and  she 
felt  as  if  her  dislike  to  Marcia  were  very 
strong.  "  She  shan't  touch  me,  and  I'd 
rather  stay  in  the  house." 

"  Very  well,"  said  Miss  Ashton :  "  I  am 
sorry  you  are  so  naughty,  but  the  rest  must 
go." 

She  sent  the  others  away,  and  Marcia  affcei 


228  Bessie  at  School. 

them,  and  went  back  to  her  room,  leaving 
Bessie  alone.  The  little  girl  sat  still  for  two 
or  three  moments,  feeling  very  angry,  and 
swelling  with  pride  and  impatience  ;  thinking 
that  Miss  Ashton  was  very  unkind,  and  Mar- 
eia,  oh,  so  wicked !  And  that  she  wished  she 
nad  never  come  to  school,  even  for  Maggie's 
sake. 

Presently  she  saw  the  colored  girl's  head 
peeping  round  the  door  at  her.  Marcia  was 
good-natured,  if  she  was  not  very  trustworthy  ; 
and  she  felt  sorry  when  she  thought  of  Bes- 
sie sitting  there  all  alone,  and  so  she  had 
come  back  to  see  if  the  little  lady  would  not 
be  glad  of  her  help  after  all. 

"  Go  away,"  said  Bessie,  angrily. 

"  Don't  little  miss  want  Marcia  put  'em  on 
now  ?  "  said  Marcia. 

"  No,  I  don't :  go  away,"  said  Bessie  ;  and 
as  she  spoke,  she  raised  one  of  her  leggins 
which  she  held  in  her  hand,  as  though  she 
would  have  thrown  it  at  Marcia.  The  girl 
laughed  and  disappeared,  leaving  Bessie  fieel 


A  Little  Light.  229 

ing,  the  next  instant,  very  much  ashamed ; 
and  then  a  very  sad  thing  happened. 

The  leggin  had  caught  on  something  be- 
hind her,  and  she  turned  her  head  to  see  what 
held  it,  giving  it  at  the  same  time  an  im- 
patient little  pull.  One  of  the  buttons  had 
caught  upon  the  stem  of  the  japonica,  and 
alas !  alas !  as  Bessie  twitched  it  away,  the 
white  blossom  was  broken  short  off,  and  fell 
upon  the  floor. 

Ah !  how  frightened  the  poor  child  was 
when  she  saw  what  she  had  done.  The  flower 
had  fallen  behind  the  window-curtain,  where  it 
might  have  lain  for  a  long  time  without  being 
noticed;  and,  with  all  the  people  who  were 
going  and  coming  in  this  room,  it  might  easily 
have  seemed  that  it  had  been  broken  without 
the  knowledge  of  the  person  who  did  it.  But 
no  thought  of  concealment  entered  Bessie's 
little  heart ;  and  after  one  moment's  pause  of 
astonishment  and  alarm,  she  picked  up  the 
broken  flower,  and  ran  with  it  to  Mrs.  Ash* 
ton's  room. 


230  Bessie  at  School. 

The  lady  was  just  preparing  to  hear  a  reci- 
tation, when  a  fumbling  was  heard  at  the  lock, 
as  though  a  small  hand  were  trying  to  turn 
it ;  then  the  door  opened,  and  Bessie  appeared, 
One  hand  was  held  behind  her ;  and  she  stood 
looking  up  at  Mrs.  Ashton,  with  her  color 
coming  and  going. 

"  Well,  Bessie,  what  is  it  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Ashton. 

"  Ma'am,"  said  Bessie,  and  then  she  stopped, 
and  drew  a  long  breath. 

"  Have  you  any  message  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Ashton,  who  was  near-sighted,  and  did  not 
notice  the  expression  of  the  child's  face. 

"  No,  ma'am,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but "  — 

"Then  run  away.  Why  do  you  interrupt 
us  now  ?  " 

"  Because  I  have  to  make  trouble  for  you, 
ma'am,"  said  the  poor  little  thing. 

"  That  is  just  what  I  do  not  wish  you  to  do. 
If  you  have  any  thing  to  say,  you  may  tell  me 
by  and  by." 

"I'll  have  to  tell  you  now,  or  you  might 


A  Little  Light.  231 

think  somebody  else  did  it,"  said  Bessie ;  and  • 
as  she  spoke,  she  drew  her  hand  from  behind 
her,  and  showed  the  broken   flower.     "  I'm 
very  sorry,  ma'am,  but  I  broke  your  flower." 

Mrs.  Ashton's  pale  face  flushed  angrily,  then 
grew  calm  again. 

"  How  did  that  happen,  Bessie  ?  Did  I  not 
tell  you  not  to  touch  the  flowers  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  the  child,  the 
tears  beginning  to  run  slowly  down  her 
cheeks ;  "  and  I  didn't  mean  to  touch  them, 
and  I  didn't  go  on  the  other  side  of  the  bench. 
It  was  with  my  leggin,  —  I  don't  quite  know 
how ;  but  it  was  'cause  I  was  naughty.  I  was 
mad  with  Marcia,  and  was  going  to  throw  my 
leggin  at  her;  and  somehow  it  knocked  the 
flower  and  broke  it.  But  I  know  I  did  it ;  and 
I  thought  I  ought  to  tell  you  very  quick,  or 
you  might  think  it  was  Marcia,  or  some  one 
else." 

"  I  am  glad  you  are  so  honest,  Bessie,"  said 
Mrs.  Ashton.  "Put  the  flower  down,  and  I 
will  talk  to  you  about  it  by  and  by." 


232  Bessie  at  School. 

Bessie  laid  the  japonica  on  the  table,  aiid 
turned  to  go,  then  turned  back  again. 

"  Ma'am,"  she  said,  "  if  you  are  going  to 
scold  me,  would  you  have  objections  to  do  it 
now  ?  I  guess  the  young  ladies  would  just  as 
lief  wait,  and  I  don't  like  to  think  about  it  so 
long." 

The  young  ladies  had  all  been  listening  to 
the  child,  and  feeling  great  sympathy  for  her 
in  her  trouble ;  while  they  could  not  help  ad- 
miring her  straightforward  truthfulness,  and 
generous  fear  lest  another  should  be  blamed 
for  her  fault ;  but  at  this  speech,  every  book  in 
the  class  went  up  before  the  owner's  face  to 
hide  the  smiles  which  could  not  be  repressed. 
Even  the  corners  of  Mrs.  Ashton's  grave 
mouth  gave  way  a  little. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  scold  you,  Bessie,"  she 
said.  "  I  will  never  scold  any  one  who  truth- 
fully confesses  an  accident ;  so  I  shall  say  no 
more  about  the  flower.  But  what  makes  you 
so  pettish  and  unkind  to  Marcia?  You  do 
not  behave  well  to  her.  Has  *he  done  any 
thing  to  you  ?  " 


A  Little  Light.  233 

"  No,  ma'am,  not  to  me,"  said  Bessie,  dry- 
ing her  tears. 

"  To  Maggie  or  Belle  then  ?  I  know  she  is 
mischievous  sometimes,  and  I  will  not  let  her 
annoy  you ;  but  you  must  not  behave  so  to 
her." 

"  She  did  not  annoy  any  of  us,  ma'am.  She 
is  very  good  to  us,  only  I  don't  let  her  help 
me." 

"  Why  not,  if  she  does  not  trouble  you  ?  " 

"I  can't  approve  her:  she  is  too  wicked," 
said  Bessie. 

"  What  makes  you  think  so  ? "  asked  the 
lady,  who  saw  there  was  something  at  the  bot- 
tom of  all  this,  and  thought  it  better  to  settle 
the  difficulty  at  once. 

"  She  is  a  burglar,"  said  Bessie,  solemnly. 

"  A  what  ?  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Ashton. 

Now,  as  we  know,  our  Maggie  and  Bessie 
were  both  fond  of  a  long  word  ;  and  as  soon  as 
they  understood,  or  thought  they  understood, 
the  meaning  of  one,  put  it  in  use  on  every  occa- 
sion. And  besides,  Bessie  thought  it  sounded 


234  Bessie  at  School. 

better  to  ears  polite,  to  use  the  new  one  sho 
had  beard  that  morning,  than  it  did  to  say 
thief  or  steal ;  so  she  answered, — 

"  She  is,  ma'am.  Maybe  you  don't  know  it, 
but  she  is  a  burglar.  I  saw  her  burgle  three 
pears  out  of  your  dish  ;  and  she  put  her  fingers 
in  the  dish  too,  and  then  licked  every  one  of 
them?" 

The  emphatic  tone  of  disgust  in  which  these 
last  words  were  uttered,  and  the  expression 
of  the  child's  face,  told  that  the  uncleanli- 
ness  of  the  trick,  as  well  as  its  sinfulness,  had 
gone  far  to  horrify  her. 

The  whole  thing — look,  tone,  and  words  — 
was  irresistible.  All  discipline  was  at  an  end  ; 
and  Mrs.  Ashton  herself  could  not  help  join- 
ing in  the  merry  laugh  that  was  raised  by  the 
class. 

Bessie  would  have  been  angry  again ;  but 
the  thought  of  her  late  passion,  its  sad  conse- 
quences, and  her  present  repentance,  kept  her 
temper  in  check,  and  she  stood  silent.  Mrs. 
Ashton  recollected  herself,  and  raised  a  warn- 


A  Little  Light.  235 

ing  finger  to  the  amused  line  of  girls  before 
her,  as  she  saw  Bessie's  disturbed  face ;  and 
drawing  the  child  to  her,  she  kissed  the  grieved 
lips,  and  said  kindly,  — 

"  I  am  sorry  Marcia  did  such  a  naughty 
thing,  Bessie:  but  she  has  not  been  as  well 
taught  g,s  some  of  us ;  and  we  all  do  wrong 
sometimes,  and  need  forgiveness  from  one 
another  as  well  as  from  God." 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  answered  Bessie,  meekly , 
"  and  I  was  very  naughty  to  be  so  angry. 
Please  to  'scuse  me,  and  I'll  try  not  to  be 
cross  to  Marcia  again.  And  I'm  very  sorry 
about  your  flower." 

"  I  shall  not  care  about  my  flower,  if  it 
serves  to  teach  you  a  lesson,"  said  the  lady. 
"  That  is  quite  forgiven ;  and  you  need  not 
distress  yourself  over  it.  Now  you  may 
go." 

Bessie  drew  Mrs.  Ashton's  head  down  to 
her. 

"  And  may  I  go  and  tell  Marcia  I  am  sorry 
I  was  so  angry  with  her  ?  "  she  whispered. 


236  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton  ;  and  Bessie 
went  away. 

Mrs.  Ashton  waited  a  moment  till  her  class 
had  settled  into  quiet,  and  then,  taking  up  the 
broken  flower,  she  said.  — 

"  I  do  not  regret  the  time  spared  from  the 
recitation  which  this  little  incident  has  occu- 
pied. The  loss  of  my  flower  has  furnished 
lessons  to  more  than  little  Bessie ;  lessons 
which  we  will  all  do  well  to  lay  to  heart, 
and  which  may  prove  of  far  more  value  than 
that  which  we  should  have  learned  from  our 
books.  I  trust  they  may  not  be  lost." 

So  much  of  all  this  as  had  come  to  her  own 
knowledge  Kate  told  to  Fanny,  who  laughed 
with  the  others,  but  found  in  the  storj'  fresh 
cause  to  feel  ashamed  that  she  had  been  so  far 
outdone  in  'truth  and  generosity  by  a  little 
child. 

The  dreaded  interview  with  Mrs.  Ashton 
took  place  after  school.  Kate  and  Fanny 
found  her  more  grieved  than  angrr,  more 
hurt  at  their  deceit  and  want  of  confidence  in 


A  Little  Light,  237 

her,  than  at  the  injury  to  her  clock.  She 
talked  long  and  seriously  to  them,  not  failing 
to  point  out  the  "difference  between  their  con- 
duct and  that  of  little  Bessie ;  and  she  was 
both  touched  and  gratified,  when  Kate  told, 
not  without  tears,  of  the  part  they  had  acted 
towards  the  child,  and  of  the  influence  of  the 
little  one's  example  in  fading  her  to  confes- 
sion and  repentance. 

Mrs.  Ashton  told  the  girls  that  she  should 
inflict  no  farther  punishment  upon  them  than 
an  apology  to  Monsieur  Gaufrau,  and  a  con- 
fession of  the  deception  that  had  been  prac- 
tised upon  him ;  and  she  was  still  better 
pleased  when  Kate  tcid  her  that  this  had 
already  been  done,  and  that  she  had,  in  her 
own  name  and  Fanny's,  begged  his  pardon 
before  the  whole  class. 

"  For,"  said  she,  with  many  blushes,  "  as 
long  as  I  had  started  on  the  right  track,  I 
thought  I  would  not  stop  halfway." 

"  Then  do  not  stop  half  way,  and  do  not 
turn  back,  my  child,"  said  Mrs.  Ashton,  hold- 


238  Bessie  at  School. 

ing  out  her  hand  to  the  young  girl ;  "  you 
have  farther,  much  farther  to  go,  Kate,  before 
you  reach  the  goal.  Oh  !  take  heed  that  your 
steps  turn  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left 
from  the  way  of  truth  and  uprightness." 


XI. 


ABOUT  "OUR  FATHER'S"   WORK. 

P,  up,"  said  the  baby,  "  up,  up." 

Baby  sat  upon  the  hearth-rug  in 
her  mother's  room,  with  her  play- 
things about  her ;  and  Maggie  sat  beside  her, 
writing  away  upon  her  slate. 

If  you  had  asked  Maggie  what  she  was 
doing,  she  would  probably  have  said,  "  Taking 
care  of  Baby ;  "  for  that  was  what  her  mother 
had  asked  her  to  do,  and  what  she  really  be- 
lieved herself  to  be  doing.  But  perhaps  Baby 
would  have  given  a  different  opinion. 

"  Up,  up,  wee,  wee,"  said  the  little  one 
again,  pulling  away  at  Maggie's  skirt. 

"  Yes,  darling,  by  and  by.  Oh !  see,  see 
Baby's  pretty  dolly  !  "  and  putting  the  doll  in 
her  little  sister's  lap,  Maggie  turned  again  to 


240  Bessie  at  School. 

her  slate.  Baby  took  dolly  by  the  heels,  and 
thumped  her  head  upon  the  floor,  —  it  was 
well  dolly  was  not  subject  to  headaches  ; 
then  she  scolded  her,  then  kissed  her,  and 
sung  and  petted  her  to  sleep,  then  put  the 
doll's  cool  china  head  in  her  own  heated  little 
mouth ;  and,  at  last,  tiring  of  all  these,  threw 
her  down,  and  took  hold  of  Maggie  again  with 
that  pitiful,  beseeching,  "  Up,  up." 

"  Now,  Maggie  dear,  just  put  by  your  writ- 
ing, and  take  Baby  up,  and  tell  her  '  the  little 
pig  that  went  to  market,' "  said  nurse.  "  She's 
fretful  with  her  teeth,  and  they  hurt  her  so 
this  morning.  Yes,  my  pet :  your  mammy 
will  take  ye,  and  tell  ye  pigs  without  end,  as 
soon  as  she  gets  this  naughty  boy  dressed." 

The  naughty  boy  was  Frankie,  who  had  un- 
dertaken to  give  Baby's  woolly  lamb  a  shower- 
bath,  and  not  being  able  to  reach  the  faucet, 
had  climbed  into  the  bath-tub,  where  he  had 
turned  it  to  such  purpose  as  to  shower,  not 
only  the  lamb,  but  himself  from  head  to  foot. 
Frankie  was  too  well  used  to  the  conse- 


About  w  our  Father's  "   Work.       241 

quences  of  such  pranks,  to  mind  them  very 
much  ;  but,  as  usual,  he  had  chosen  a  time 
when  it  was  not  very  convenient  to  attend 
to  him. 

This  was  Saturday  morning.  Jane  was 
sweeping  the  nursery,  nurse  sorting  the  clean 
clothes,  Mrs.  Bradford  petting  her  fretful 
baby,  and  Maggie  very  busy  over  that  prize 
composition  ;  while  Bessie  was  in  her  own 
room,  dressing  the  dolls,  and  putting  the  baby- 
house  in  order;  for  Belle  Powers  and  Lily 
Norris  were  coming  to  spend  the  day,  and  all 
must  be  ready  for  them.  So  every  one  was 
very  busy,  and  that,  of  course,  must  be  the 
time  for  Frankie  to  get  into  mischief. 

Then,  just  as  nurse  began  to  take  off  his 
wet  clothes,  a  lady  came  to  see  Mrs.  Bradford 
on  business,  and  she  had  to  go  downstairs : 
BO,  putting  Baby  down  on  the  rug,  mamma 
told  Maggie  to  amuse  her  till  she  came  back. 
But  Maggie,  having  brought  some  toys  for  her 
little  sister,  thought  she  had  done  enough, 
and  went  on  with  her  writing. 

16 


242  Bessie  at  School. 

But  Baby  was  not  in  a  mood  to  amuse  hor 
self.  She  wanted  to  be  taken  up,  and  told 
that  wonderful  story  about  the  well-known 
family  of  little  pigs,  which  mamma  had  been 
telling  upon  her  tiny  fingers  when  she  was 
called  away. 

And  Maggie  ? 

Maggie  was  trying  to  make  two  things 
agree,  her  duty  and  her  inclination.  Some- 
times these  go  very  well  together ;  but  on  this 
occasion  they  did  not.  Maggie  strove  to  per- 
suade herself  that  the  last  was  the  first ;  but 
neither  Baby,  nurse,  nor  her  conscience,  would 
let  her  deceive  herself  so,  and  she  did  not  feel 
well  pleased  with  either  of  the  three  monitors. 

"  I'll  take  her  when  I've  finished  this  idea," 
said  Maggie.  "  There,  Baby,  play  with  the 
pretty  blocks." 

"  Bad  bocky,"  said  Baby,  striking  out  with 
her  little  foot  at  the  pile  of  blocks  before  her. 
Just  then  Bessie  peeped  around  the  door ;  and 
seeing  that  the  baby  was  restless  and  dis- 
contented, and  nurse  busy,  she  came  to  do 


About  "  our  Father's  "  Work.       243 

what  she  could  fbr  her  little  sister's  amuse 
ment. 

"  Bessie  make  her  nice  house,"  she  said, 
thinking  that  was  what  the  child  wanted ;  and 
she  began  piling  the  blocks  on  one  another  in 
a  tower,  which  Baby  was  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  knocking  down  when  it  should  be  finished, 
talking  to  her  the  while  in  a  coaxing,  chirrup- 
ing voice. 

Baby  put  three  fingers  into  her  mouth,  and 
sat  watching  Bessie  for  a  few  moments,  when 
suddenly  bethinking  herself  once  more  of  the 
adventures  of  those  famous  pigs,  and  of  the 
coveted  seat  upon  Maggie's  lap,  she  dashed 
over  the  half-built  tower,  and  turning  again 
towards  Maggie,  fretted,  "  Up,  up,  wee,  up." 

Bessie,  willing  to  save  Maggie  from  inter- 
ruption, took  the  small  hand  in  her  ow  i,  and 
began  the  oft-repeated  tale ;  but  neitl  )r  did 
this  answer.  Baby,  like  many  older  pe«ple 
when  they  are  sick,  aye,  and  when  thoy  are 
well  too,  was  not  to  be  satisfied  with  any  thing 
but  that  on  which  she  had,  for  the  m jment, 


244  Bessie  at  School. 

set  her  fancy.  Maggie's  lap  and  Maggie's 
attention  were  the  only  thing's  that  could 
please  her  just  then,  and  she  could  see  no 
reason  why  she  should  not  have  them. 

"  Oh,  you  little  bother !  I  shan't  take  you, 
and  you  can  just  let  Bessie  play  with  you, 
now  !  "  said  Maggie  :  "  I  am  not  going  to  stop 
my  work  just  for  such  nonsense.  Bessie  can 
tell  the  pig  that  '  went  to  market '  as  well  as 
I  can ;  and  she  is  not  busy." 

Baby  might  not  understand  the  words,  but 
she  understood  the  tone,  and  knew  very  well 
that  she  was  being  scolded ;  and  she  put  up  a 
pitiful,  grieved  lip,  which  would  have  made 
Maggie  feel  sorry  if  she  had  seen  it.  But  hei 
eyes  were  bent  upon  her  slate,  not  once  turned 
towards  little  Annie. 

Bessie  looked  from  one  sister  to  the  other, 
and  then  said  gently,  — 

"  Maggie  dear,  do  you  think  you  are  doing 
the  work  '  our  Father '  has  given  you  to 
do  now  ?  " 

Maggie   colored,   and  looked  more    vexed 


About  w our  Father's"  Work.       245 

than  she  had  done  before,  hesitated  an  instant, 
and  then,  as  the  cloud  passed  from  her  face, 
said,  — 

"  No,  Bessie,  I  am  not ;  but  I  just  will  do 
it ; "  and  in  another  moment  Baby  was  in  the 
long-wished-for  place,  and  that  first  little  pig 
who  went  to  market  travelled  there  so  many 
times  that  I  think  he  would  have  been  glad  to 
be  the  brother  who  stayed  at  home. 

Mamma  came  back  just  as  nurse  was 
through  with  Frankie,  and  said,  as  she  took 
the  now  contented  baby  from  Maggie,  "  You 
are  my  own  dear,  obliging  little  girl.  I  was 
sorry  to  interrupt  you,  but  you  see  it  could 
not  be  helped." 

"  But  I  was  not  obliging  or  kind  at  all, 
mamma,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  at  least,  not  at  first. 
I  felt  real  provoked  'cause  I  had  to  take  care 
of  Baby,  and  I  believe  I  would  have  let  her 
cry  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Bessie,  who  put  me 
in  mind  I  was  giving  place  to  my  own  work, 
instead  of  God's.  I  s'pose  it  was  God's  work 
to  amuse  Baby,  even  if  it  did  not  seem  half  so 


246  Bessie  at  School. 

useful  a  thing  as  writing  my  composition  : 
was  it  not,  mamma  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  dear ;  and  I  am  glad  you  saw 
that?" 

"  Oh !  it  was  not  my  praise  at  all,  but  Bes- 
sie's, mamma.  She  is  an  excellent  reminder ; 
and  if  I  had  not  her,  I  expect  I  should  be  an 
awful  child." 

"  I  trust  not,  dear,"  said  her  mother, 
smiling. 

"  But,  Maggie  dear,"  said  Bessie,  as  her 
sister  took  up  her  slate  once  more,  "  I'm 
'fraid  you  have  something  else  to  do.  I  think 
Marigold  is  hungry,  and  has  no  seed  in  his 
cup.  You  did  not  feed  him  this  morning,  did 
you?" 

Maggie  uttered  an  exclamation,  and  clap- 
ping her  hand  over  her  mouth,  after  the  man- 
ner of  little  girls  on  such  occasions,  turned  to 
meet  her  mother's  half-mournful,  half-re- 
proachful look,  and  then  ran  away  to  her  own 
room,  followed  by  Bessie. 

Poor  little  Marigold !     It  was   easy  to  bo 


About  " our  Fathers  "   Work.       247 

seen  that  he  was  in  a  sad  way  about  some- 
thing, and  a  peep  into  his  cage  soon  showed 
the  cause.  As  the  children  came  in,  he  was 
making  a  loud  but  mournful  chirping,  as  if 
he  wanted  to  call  attention  to  himself;  and 
when  he  saw  them,  he  commenced  fluttering 
his  wings,  and  stretching  out  his  neck  towards 
them. 

"Oh,  you  poor  little  birdie  !  "  said  Maggie  : 
"  did  your  naughty,  ought-to-be-ashamed-of- 
herself  Maggie  forget  all  about  you  this  morn- 
ing ?  Yes,  Bessie  :  his  seed-cup  is  empty,  and 
he  has  not  had  fresh  water  or  any  thing.  And 
it  just  came  'cause  I  was  in  such  a  hurry  to 
get  to  my  composition.  Oh,  dear !  I  wonder 
if  I  am  too  anxious  about  it.  You  see,  Bes- 
sie, it  was  this  way.  When  Jane  called  me  to 
feed  him,  I  was  just  going  to  write,  and  I  did 
not  want  to  come  at  all,  and  thought  I  would 
wait;  but  then  I  remembered  how  mamma 
eaid  if  she  let  me  attend  to  him,  I  must  prom- 
ise to  attend  to  him  faithfully  every  morning  : 
so  I  ran  as  quick  as  I  could  for  the  seed-box 


248  Bessie  at  School, 

and  a  lump  of  sugar  (for  I  saw  yesterday  his 
sugar  was  all  gone),  and  I  was  in  such  a 
hurry  that  I  let  the  box  fall,  and  spilled  all 
the  seed ;  and  it  took  me  so  long  to  pick  it 
up ;  but  all  the  time  I  was  thinking  about  a 
very  good  idea  I  had,  and  now  I  remember  I 
just  went  and  put  the  box  away,  and  forgot  to 
give  Marigold  any  seed.  And  there  is  the 
lump  of  sugar  lying  on  the  chair,  and  his 
water-cup  is  empty  too.  Poor  little  fellow! 
just  see  how  hungry  he  is,  Bessie  !  If  his  in- 
.stinct  tells  him  it  was  I  who  did  it  to  him,  I 
wonder  if  he'll  forgive  me,  and  love  me  any 
more." 

Marigold  was  certainly  very  hungry,  but  he 
did  not  seem  to  feel  unforgiving,  or  to  bear 
any  grudge  against  his  repentant  little  mis- 
tress ;  for,  as  he  picked  up  seed  after  seed, 
and  opened  them  with  his  sharp  beak,  he 
watched  the  children  with  his  bright,  black 
eyes  as  lovingly  as  usual,  giving,  every  now 
and  then,  when  he  could  spare  the  time,  a 
cheerful  chirp,  which  seemed  to  say,  "  Thank 


About  "  our  Fatness  "  Work.       249 

you:  you  have  made  amends  for  past  neg- 
lect." 

Maggie  and  Bessie  stood  and  looked  at  him 
till  he  had  made  a  good  breakfast,  and  fallen 
to  dressing  his  feathers ;  and  then  ran  back 
to  their  mother's  room,  where  the  former  told 
her  how  she  had  come  so  sadly  to  forget  her 
duty  that  morning,  a  duty  which  she  had, 
with  many  pleadings  and  promises,  persuaded 
mamma  to  let  her  undertake,  and  which  she 
had,  till  this  unlucky  day,  never  neglected. 

"  Mamma,"  she  said,  "  do  you  think  you 
will  have  to  take  away  the  charge  of  Marigold 
from  me  ?  " 

"Not  now,  Maggie,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford. 
"  You  have  been  so  faithful  to  him  ever  since 
you  had  him,  that  I  shall  not  punish  you  for 
this  one  failure.  But  it  must  not  happen 
again,  daughter  ;  for  even  if  I  thought  it  best 
to  overlook  such  carelessness,  it  would  be 
cruel  and  wrong  for  me  to  let  the  bird  suffer 
through  your  fault." 

"  If  1  forget  him  again,  mamma,  I  am  sure 


250  Bessie  at  School. 

I  shall  be  very  deserving  of  having  you  say 
Jane  must  take  care  of  him  ;  but  I  think  this 
will  keep  me  in  mind.  And  I  see  quite  well 
now  how  being  so  very  anxious  about  my 
prize  composition  could  make  me  careless 
about  God's  work.  I  have  been  in  such  a 
hurry  with  it  this  morning,  because  Gracie 
has  a  whole  page  of  hers  written,  and  I  did 
not  want  her  to  be  so  much  ahead  of  me. 
For,  mamma,  all  the  girls  think  now  that  one 
of  us  two  will  have  the  prize.  None  of  the 
others  think  they  have  any  chance  ;  and  I  be- 
lieve Miss  Ashton  thinks  we  are  both  too 
anxious  about  it,  for  yesterday  Gracie  was 
writing  while  we  were  at  our  arithmetic  les- 
son, and  Miss  Ashton  told  her  '  one  thing  at 
a  time ; '  and  after  school,  she  said  that  she 
was  afraid  some  of  the  class  were  thinking 
too  much  about  their  compositions  when  they 
should  be  attending  to  other  things ;  and  1 
knew  she  meant  Gracie  and  me,  least  I'm 
quite  sure  she  meant  me.  And  I  would  know 
it  by  to-day  if  I  had  not  known  it  before," 


About  "our  Father's"  Work.       251 

said  Maggie,  gravely  shaking  her  head  as  she 
thought  of  her  shortcomings  of  the  morning. 
"  Now,  mamma,  what  plan  do  you  think  T 
could  take  to  better  myself  of  this  ?  " 

Mrs.  Bradford  could  hardly  help  smiling  at 
the  air  of  grave  importance  with  which  this 
was  said  ;  but  she  saw  that  Maggie  was  quite 
in  earnest,  and  meant  what  she  said  about 
correcting  herself. 

"  I  think,  dear,"  she  answered,  "  that  the 
best  way  for  you  is  to  make  sure  each  day 
that  you  have  done  every  thing  else  you  have 
to  do,  before  you  take  up  your  composition. 
When  one  duty  is  more  pleasant  than  another, 
and  one  feels  that  one  is  apt  to  give  too 
much  place  to  it,  it  is  better  to  put  that  last, 
and  only  to  take  it  up  when  other  work  is 
done ;  and  perhaps,  as  you  have  allowed  the 
composition  to  tempt  you  into  wrong,  more 
than  once  this  morning,  it  would  be  well  to 
put  it  away  for  to-day.  I  do  not  say  you  must 
do  this ;  but  do  you  not  think  it  would  help 
you  to  be  more  careful  another  time  ?  " 


252  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Maggie,  rather  ruefully,  and 
with  a  longing  look  at  the  slate  ;  but  presently 
she  took  it  up,  and  went  cheerfully  to  put  it 
away. 

"  Mamma,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  think  Maggie 
is  pretty  good  about  her  composition,  even  if 
it  does  make  her  forget  other  things  some- 
times. She  is  not  half  so  jealoused  about  it 
as  I  am.  Sometimes  when  I  think  about 
Gracie  having  the  prize,  it  makes  me  feel  real 
mad  and  cross  with  her.  I  don't  think  she 
will  have  it ;  but  then  she  might,  you  know  ; 
and  I  don't  think  I  could  bear  that  for 
Maggie." 

"  But  you  must  try  to  be  willing,  dear," 
said  her  mother,  "  and  not  have  that  feeling 
towards  Gracie.  It  does  not  make  you  act 
unkindly  to  her,  does  it  ?  " 

"It  did  the  other  day  in  school,  mamma. 
She  had  lost  her  pencil,  and  she  asked  me  to 
lend  her  mine,  and  'cause  I  knew  she  wanted 
it  for  her  composition,  I  spoke  very  cross,  and 
told  her  '  No ; '  but  then  she  looked  so  very 


About  "  our  Father's  "  Work.       253 

surprised  at  me,  that  I  was  sorry  and  gave  ii 
to  her,  and  we  kissed  and  made  up.  But. 
mamma,  if  one  of  your  little  girls  did  not 
have  a  prize,  would  you  not  feel  pretty  mor- 
tified ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,  dear,  if  I  thought  my 
little  girls  had  done  as  well  as  they  could.  If 
they  had  been  idle,  or  disobedient,  or  untruth- 
ful, and  so  lost  all  chance  of  a  prize,  then  in- 
deed I  should  have  been  mortified  and 
grieved ;  but  if  they  had  done  their  best,  I 
should  not  feel  at  all  troubled  because  others 
had  done  better." 

"  And  would  not  papa,  mamma  ?  " 

"  No  :  he  will  be  quite  satisfied  if  he  knows 
that  you  have  tried  to  do  what  is  right." 

"  I'm  'fraid  I  shouldn't,  mamma,"  said 
Bessie,  drawing  a  long  sigh ;  "  if  Gracie  has 
the  composition  prize,  not  one  will  come  to 
Maggie  or  me ;  and  when  I  think  about  it,  I 
am  quite  dis-encouraged." 

"  But  I  do  not  want  you  to  be  discouraged, 
dearest,  any  more  than  I  want  you  to  be  too 


254  Bessie  at  School. 

eager.  How  is  it  that  you  have  no  hope  of 
the  other  prizes  for  yourself  or  Maggie  ?  " 

"  I  could  not  have  the  '  perfect-lesson  prize,' 
mamma,  'cause  I  do  not  have  so  many  to  say 
as  the  others ;  and  Maggie  has  not  had  so 
many  perfect  marks  as  some  of  the  rest." 

"  But  that  prize  to  be  given  by  the  choice 
of  the  school,  —  has  my  Bessie  given  up  all 
thought  of  that  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Bradford. 

"  Not  the  thought  of  it,  mamma ;  but  I  have 
not  a  bit  of  hope  of  it.  I  think  maybe  Belle 
will  have  it ;  for  she  has  been  very  good  and 
sweet  most  all  the  time.  She  does  not  break 
the  rules,  and  all  the  little  girls  and  the  young 
ladies  like  her.  She  says  if  it  comes  to  her, 
she  will  give  it  to  lame  Jemmy,  so  that  will 
be  as  good  for  him  as  if  one  of  us  had  it ;  but 
I  would  have  liked  to  think  that  Maggie  or  I 
had  earned  it  for  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  it  would  have 
been  very  pleasant ;  and  I  should  have  liked 
to  think  that  the  good  behavior  and  amiability 
of  one  of  my  little  daughters  had  been  of  such 


About  w  our  Father's  "  Work.      255 

service  to  Jemmy.  But  why  do  you  think 
there  is  no  hope  that  the  prize  will  come  to 
you,  darling  ?  You  have  not  broken  the  rules 
so  often,  or  had  any  trouble  with  your  play- 
mates, have  you  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  have  broken  the  rules, 
mamma  ;  but  I  have  been  naughty  sometimes. 
I  broke  Mrs.  Ashton's  flower,  you  know,  and 
two  or  three  times  I  was  passionate  with  the 
girls ;  but  I  believe  they  don't  think  about 
that  now,  and  some  of  them  say  they  shall 
vote  for  me." 

"  'Most  all  of  them  will,"  said  Maggie,  who 
had  come  back,  and  now  stood  listening: 
"  'most  all  of  our  class  will,  and  I  think  a 
good  many  of  the  young  ladies." 

"  No,  not  one,"  said  Bessie,  shaking  her 
head  decidedly. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can  be  so  sure,"  said 
Maggie ;  "  and,  Bessie,  all  the  young  ladies 
are  very  fond  of  you  ;  and  Miss  Julia  said  you 
were  the  best  child  in  the  school." 

"  They  have  reasons,  Maggie,"  said  Bessie, 


250  Eess/    at  School. 

gravely  ;  and  then,  'urning  to  her  mother,  she 
added,  "  Mamma,  don't  you  think  it  seems 
strange  that  God  sometimes  punishes  us  for 
doing  right." 

"  I  do  not  think  He  does,  dear.  God  never 
punishes  us  for  doing  His  will." 

"  No,  mamma.  I  do  not  quite  mean  that.  I 
s'pose  punish  was  not  just  the  right  word  ;  but 
I  mean  He  lets  a  great  disappointment  come 
to  us  sometimes,  'cause  we  try  to  do  what  we 
know  is  right.  When  I  was  very  young,  I 
used  to  think  He  always  gave  people  a  reward 
for  doing  right ;  but  now  I  know  better  than 
that." 

"  Suppose  you  tell  me  your  trouble,  dear ; 
and  see  if  I  cannot  help  you  to  understand  it." 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  said  Bessie,  thoughtfully. 
"I  think  I  might,  for  you  know  about  the 
clock  from  Maggie,  and  so  I  shall  not  be 
breaking  my  promise." 

And  then  she  told  her  mother  all  about  her 
trial  and  temptation  in  the  affair  of  the  broken 
clock. 


About  "our  father's'1''  Work.       257 

Mrs.  Bradford  heard  her  in  silence,  only 
now  and  then  tenderly  smoothing  her  hair,  or 
softly  patting  the  little  hand  which  rested  on 
her  knee  ;  but  Maggie  went  into  a  state  of 
fidgety  indignation,  which  she  could  scarcely 
restrain  till  the  story  was  finished,  when  she 
broke  out  with,  — 

"  I  knew  it !  I  knew  it !  I  just  knew  it ! 
That  day  that  you  were  so  mournful  and 
mysterious,  and  wouldn't  tell  even  me  what 
ailed  you,  I  knew  those  hateful  old  young 
ladies  had  been  plaguing  you  some  way ; 
and  I  just  hope  not  one  of  them  will  have 
a  single  prize  !  And  I'm  very  much  disap- 
pointed in  Miss  Kate.  I  didn't  think  she'd 
be  so  mean,  even  if  she  does  tease." 

Disappointed  !  So  was  Bessie,  more  sorely 
than  could  be  put  into  words  ;  and  in  spite  of 
Kate's  continued,  even  increased  kindness  to 
her  since  that  day,  she  could  not  get  back  the 
old  feeling  of  trust  and  confidence.  And 
Kate  saw  it,  and  grieved  over  it ;  and  so,  per- 
17 


258  Bessie  at  School. 

haps,  the  lesson  she  had  received  sank  deeper 
into  her  heart. 

"  Bessie,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  "  is  there  not 
one  reward  of  which  we  are  always  sure,  if  we 
do  our  Father's  will  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mainma,"  said  the  little  girl :  "  you 
mean,  to  know  He  is  pleased  with  us.  But  it 
did  seem  as  if  He  must  be  pleased,  if  I  could 
be  such  a  good  child  in  school  as  to  gain  the 
prize  that  would  be  such  a  help  to  poor  Jem- 
my ;  and  it  did  seem  as  if  it  was  very  much 
His  work,  and  I  am  very  disappointed  I  could 
not  do  it." 

"  But  sometimes,  darling,  we  mean  to  serve 
God  in  one  way,  and  He  sees  fit  to  have  us  do 
it  in  another ;  and  sometimes  we  are  doing 
His  work  and  glorifying  Him  when  we  do  not 
know  it  ourselves.  Benito  did  not  know  he 
was  carrying  his  pearls  in  his  bosom,  until  he 
went  into  his  Father's  presence." 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  smiling  brightly  at  her 
mother's  allusion  to  the  old,  well-loved  story, 
and  then  looking  grave  again. 


About  "  our  Father's  "   Work.       259 

Mrs.  Bradford  saw  that  she  was  not  quite 
content,  and  said :  — 

"  Bessie,  can  you  not  feel  satisfied  to  know 
that  you  have  done  more  to  serve  and  honor 
your  Father  in  heaven  by  refusing  to  do  evil 
that  good  might  come,  and  holding  firmly  to 
the  truth,  than  you  would  have  done  if  you  had 
gained  fifty  prizes  for  Jemmy  ?  " 

"  Yes,  mamma,"  said  Bessie,  brightening 
again ;  "  and  do  you  think  God  gave  me  that 
to  be  my  work  instead  of  earning  the  hospital 
bed  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  dear ;  and  sure  also  that 
His  blessing  has  followed  your  effort  to  keep 
in  the  way  of  truth." 

"  And,  mamma,  do  you  know  I  was  think- 
ing, —  I  have  to  do  a  good  deal  of  thinking 
about  this,  —  that  even  if  I  had  promised  to 
tell  a  story  to  Mrs.  Ashton,  and  the  young 
ladies  had  voted  me  the  prize,  it  would  not 
have  been  fair,  'cause  it  was  for  the  best  and 
most  truthful  child  in  the  school ;  and  they 
could  not  have  given  it  to  me  for  that, 


260  Bessie  at  School. 

but  'cause  I  had  done  them  a  wicked 
favor." 

"  And  you  would  have  had  no  peace  or  con- 
tentment in  gaining  it  so,  darling,  oven  if 
Jemmy  had  been  cured  by  this  means.  And, 
Bessie,  I  am  quite  sure  no  one  of  your  school- 
mates cares  less  for  you,  because  you  did  not 
suffer  them  to  tempt  you  into  wrong,  however 
vexed  they  might  have  been  at  the  time." 

u/care  less  for  them"  said  Maggie,  putting 
her  arms  around  Bessie's  neck  ;  "  and  I'm 
just  going  to  let  them  see  it.  I  shan't  speak 
to  those  four  girls,  or  smile  at  them,  but  look 
very  offended  every  time  I  see  them.  And 
I'm  going  to  persuade  all  the  rest  of  our  class 
to  be  offended  with  them  too." 

"  I  do  not  want  you  to  repeat  this,  Maggie," 
said  Mrs.  Bradford,  to  whom  the  story  was 
not  new,  although  the  children  thought  it 
was. 

"Mustn't  I,  mamma?  "  said  Maggie,  rather 
crestfallen.  "  Well,  I  suppose  it  would  be 
telling  tales  ;  so  I  will  just  ask  the  other  chil- 


About  M  our  father's  "  Work.       261 

dren  to  be  offended  with  the  big  girls  just  to 
oblige  me,  and  for  a  good  reason  that  is  a 
secret." 

Mrs.  Bradford  did  not  make  any  reply  to 
this.  She  did  riot  wonder  that  Maggie  was 
shocked  and  indignant ;  but  she  knew  that  her 
resentment  was  never  lasting,  and  that  long 
before  Monday  morning,  she  would  have 
thought  better  of  this  resolution.  Nor  was 
she  wrong  ;  for  having  dismissed  the  children 
to  be  dressed  before  their  little  friends  came, 
she  overheard  Maggie  say,  — 

"  Bessie,  I  guess  after  all  I  had  better  not 
coax  our  class  to  be  offended  with  those  larger 
girls :  you  see,  maybe  they  have  begun  to 
repent  of  their  meanness,  and  it  might  dis- 
courage them  if  they  would  like  '  to  turn  over 
a  new  leaf.'  " 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  think  so  too ;  and  I 
meant  to  ask  you  not  to,  Maggie.  Let's  for- 
give and  forget." 

"  I'll  forgive,  and  I'll  try  to  forget,"  said 
Maggie ;  "  but  I'm  afraid  that  particular  will 


202 


Bessie  at  School. 


be  pretty  hard  work.  But  I  will  say  that  1 
hepe  perhaps  one  of  them  will  have  a  prize 
after  all,  and  I  s'pose  that  will  be  a  pretty 
a;ood  way  of  forgiving." 


XII. 


BESSIE'S  PARTY. 

j|E  are  going  to  have  a  party,"  said 
Maggie. 

"  Who,  your  mamma  ?  "  said  Nel- 
lie Ransom. 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Maggie  :  "  we,  Bessie  and 
I.  Next  Tuesday  is  Bessie's  birthday,  when 
she  will  be  seven  years  old ;  and  mamma  said 
we  might  have  a  party." 

"  Oh,  how  lovely !  "  said  Dora  Johnson  : 
"  and  will  you  invite  me,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,  we  will :  'cause  mamma  said 
we  might  have  all  the  class,"  answered  Mag- 
gie ;  "  but,  Dora,  you  ought  not  to  ask  us  to 
invite  you." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  said  Dora. 

"  Because  it  is  not  polite  to  ask  people  to 
invite  you  to  their  houses.  We  would  have  to, 


264  Bessie  at  School. 

even  if  we  did  not  want  you,  or  else  hurt  your 
feelings  by  telling  you  we  would  rather  not 
have  yon." 

"  You  need  not  ask  me  if  you  don't  want 
to,"  said  Dora,  pouting.  "I  don't  care  for 
going  to  your  old  party !  " 

"  But  we  do  want  you,  and  you  would  like 
to  come,"  said  Bessie,  good-naturedly ;  "  for 
it  is  going  to  be  very  nice,  and  we  are  to  have 
a  magic-lantern." 

"  Oh,  how  perfectly  lovely ! "  said  Fanny 
Leroy,  clapping  her  hands.  "  I  never  saw  a 
magic-lantern :  I'll  be  sure  to  come." 

"  Now,  there's  another  of  you,"  said  Mag- 
gie, in  rather  an  aggrieved  tone.  "  You  ought 
not  to  say  you'll  come,  till  you're  invited. 
Bessie  and  I  are  going  to  send  you  an  invita 
tion  all  written  in  a  note,  and  you  must  an- 
swer it  in  the  same  way,  and  not  say  you'll 
come  before-time.  I'm  sorry  I  told  you.  if  you 
act  this  way  about  it." 

"  When  did  you  say  it  was  to  be  ?  "  asked 
Nellie. 


Bessie's  Purty.  265 

"  Next  Tuesday,"  said  Maggie :  "  the  first 
of  May.  That's  Bessie's  birthday." 

"  And  that  is  the  day  Miss  Ashton's  undo 
is  going  to  give  the  prizes,"  said  Gracie  How- 
ard. 

"  Why,  so  it  is ! "  said  Lily  Norris.  "  What 
a  very  'markable  day  it  will  be  for  us  !  " 

Here  the  bell  rang,  and  the  young  voices 
were  all  hushed.  But  after  school  was  opened, 
the  children  found  that  one  of  the  expected 
"  remarkable "  events  would  not,  after  all, 
take  place  on  the  first  day  of  May. 

"  Children,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  "  a  letter 
came  from  my  uncle  this  morning,  saying  that 
he  had  been  called  out  of  town  on  very  impor- 
tant business,  and  so  could  not  be  here  on 
Tuesday,  to  present  the  prizes.  But  on  the 
following  Thursday  he  hopes  to  be  at  home, 
and  wishes  to  have  all  the  compositions  hand- 
ed to  him  on  the  evening  of  that  day,  so  that 
he  may  read  them  before  Friday,  when  he  will 
be  here.  We  shall  have  no  regular  school  on 
that  day,  but  a  little  examination  will  take  the 


266  Bessie  at  School. 

place  of  the  usual  lessons ;  and  you  may  tell 
such  of  your  friends  as  would  like  to  come, 
that  we  will  be  happy  to  see  them." 

So  the  giving  of  the  prizes  was  to  be  made 
quite  a  little  affair.  Some  of  the  children  were 
pleased,  and  some  were  not ;  timid  Maggie, 
and  one  or  two  more  who  were  afflicted  with 
that  troublesome  shyness,  being  among  the 
latter  number. 

But  going  to  school  had  really  proved  of 
service  to  Maggie  in  conquering  her  extreme 
bashfulness,  as  her  friends  had  hoped ;  and 
though  her  color  might  still  come  and  go,  and 
her  voice  shake  somewhat  if  a  stranger  spoke 
to  her,  she  could  now  hold  up  her  head,  and 
answer  as  became  a  well-bred  and  polite  little 
lady.  Nor  did  she  longer  let  it  stand  in  the 
way  of  offering  to  do  a  kind  thing  for  other 
people  if  she  had  the  opportunity ;  but  when 
that  came  to  her,  tried  to  forget  herself, 
and  to  think  only  of  the  help  she  might 
be.  For  having  the  will  to  cure  herself, 
Maggie  had  succeeded  in  her  efforts,  and 


Bessie's  Party.  267 

her  improvement  in  this  respect  was  much 
to  her  credit. 

As  for  Bessie,  she  cared  little,  except  fof 
Maggie's  sake,  whether  there  were  half  a  doz- 
en or  fifty  people  present,  besides  those  she 
called  her  "  own."  She  was  neither  a  shy 
nor  a  bold  child;  nor  was  she  vain.  But 
when  she  had  a  thing  to  do,  she  did  it  with  a 
straightforward  simplicity,  and  a  dignified, 
ladylike  little  manner,  which  were  both  amus- 
ing and  attractive.  If  she  knew  the  answer  to 
a  question,  and  that  it  was  right  for  her  to 
give  it,  she  could  do  so  almost  as  readily  be- 
fore a  room  full  of  people,  as  before  one  or 
two ;  and  this  was  because  she  did  not  think. 
of  herself,  or  what  people  were  thinking  of  her, 
but  only  if  the  thing  were  right,  and  of  the 
proper  way  to  do  it. 

Now  I  would  by  no  means  be  understood  to 
say  that  those  little  people  who  are  not  trou- 
bled with  timidity  themselves,  should  blame 
or  think  hardly  of  those  who  suffer  from  it. 
It  is  a  part  of  some  natures,  not  of  others ; 


268  Bessie  at  School. 

and  those  who  are  free  from  it,  should  do  all 
they  can  to  help  and  encourage  those  who  are 
not  so.  But  certain  it  is,  that  we  can  do  much 
ourselves  towards  conquering  this  troublesome 
"  little  fox  ; "  and  if  my  young  readers  could 
only  know  how  much  more  happy  as  well  as 
useful  they  may  be  when  free  from  his  vexa- 
tious attacks,  I  am  sure  they  would  do  all  they 
could  to  bury  him  out  of  sight  and  hearing. 

For  herself,  Bessie  had,  as  we  know,  no 
thought  of  a  prize.  From  the  older  girls,  in- 
fluenced by  Kate  Maynard,  she  would  not,  she 
believed,  receive  a  single  vote.  Kate  had 
never  withdrawn  that  threat;  indeed,  she  had 
almost  forgotten  she  had  ever  made  it,  and  it 
never  occurred  to  her  that  Bessie  still  expected 
her  to  act  upon  it.  The  little  girls  were  divid- 
ed, each  one  having  her  own  favorite,  whom 
she  thought  the  most  deserving,  and  for  whom 
she  intended  to  vote ;  and  Bessie  imagined 
that  the  only  hope  of  the  hospital  bed  for  lame 
Jemmy  lay  with  Belle  Powers.  For  Belle 
was  now  so  much  interested  in  all  that  con- 


Bessie's  Party.  269 

cerned  Maggie  and  Bessie,  that  she  was  almost 
as  anxious  as  they  were  to  gain  it  for  him ; 
and  she  had  been  to  Riverside  with  her  young 
friends,  and  seen  the  lame  boy,  so  that  she 
took  an  interest  in  him  on  his  own  account 
also. 

Lily  Norris,  too,  had  promised  that  if  this 
prize  came  to  her,  she  would  give  it  to  Jemmy  ; 
but  there  was  small  chance  of  that.  Lily  was 
a  roguish,  mischievous  little  thing,  and  a  great 
chatterbox ;  and  it  would  not  do  to  tell  how 
often  she  had  broken  the  rules  by  talking  and 
laughing  aloud  at  forbidden  times,  throwing 
paper-balls,  making  faces,  and  so  forth.  No, 
no, -Lily  would  never  have  the  prize  for  being 
the  best  child  in  the  school. 

But  in  spite  of  her  half-jealousy  of  Gracie 
Howard,  and  her  acknowledgment  to  her 
mother  that  she  might  possibly  earn  the  com- 
position prize,  Bessie  had  little  doubt  in  her 
own  mind  that  it  would  fall  to  Maggie,  and 
thought  it  rather  unreasonable  in  any  one  to 
expect  to  carry  it  away  from  her.  Her  own 


270  Bessie  at  School. 

Maggie  who  "  made  up  "  such  delightful  sto 
ries  and  plays,  and  who  had  written  the  "  Com- 
plete Family,"  that  wonderful  book  for  which 
Uncle  Ruthven  had  paid  such  a  price,  could 
scarcely  fail  to  be  the  successful  one  here ; 
and  Bessie  had  little  fear  on  that  score.  But 
she  knew  that  Maggie's  pleasure  would  be  for 
the  moment  half  destroyed  if  she  were  obliged 
to  receive  the  prize  in  the  presence  of  stran- 
gers ;  and  she  turned  to  her  sister  with  a 
sympathizing  glance,  which  was  met  with  a 
look  of  the  utmost  dismay  from  Maggie. 

But  there  was  one  young  heart  there  which 
was  troubled  with  no  such  painful  misgivings 
as  poor  Maggie's.  A  vain  and  ambitious  little 
heart  it  was,  and  rather  gloried  in  the  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  its  expected  triumphs 
before  a  number  of  admiring  eyes. 

Gracie  Howard  was  a  very  clever  child,  and 
none  knew  this  better  than  herself.  It  had 
been  often  said  in  her  hearing,  not  by  her 
father  and  mother,  for  they  were  too  wise  to 
do  such  a  thing ;  but  by  foolish  people  who 


BessiJs  J^arty.  271 

imagined  they  would  please  her  parents  by 
saying  so,  and  had  no  thought  of  the  harm 
they  might  be  doing  the  child.  But  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Howard  would  have  been  far  better 
satisfied  to  have  their  little  daughter  only  half 
as  clever,  and  to  see  her  modest,  humble,  and 
free  from  the  vanity  which  was  spoiling  all 
the  finer  traits  of  her  character.  Not  that 
Gracie  was  a  bad  child  by  any  means ;  on  the 
contrary,  she  was  in  many  respects  a  very 
sweet  little  girl.  But,  ah !  that  ugly  weed  of 
self-conceit!  how  many  fair  plants  and  pre- 
cious seeds  it  chokes  up  and  keeps  out  of 
sight ! 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Howard  had  hoped  that  by 
sending  her  to  school  where  she  would  be 
thrown  with  other  children,  this"  fault  of 
Gracie's  might  be  checked.  But  it  had  only 
grown  upon  her,  as  they  saw  with  sorrow. 

Miss  Ashto»  had  a  bright  set  of  little  girls 
in  her  class,  but  Gracie  was  certainly  the 
brightest  and  quickest  among  them ;  and  she 
very  soon  became  aware  of  this.  She  had  had 


272  Bessie  at  School. 

more  perfect  lessons  than  any  one  of  the  oth- 
ers, that  they  all  knew ;  and  Gracie  herself 
had  not  the  least  doubt  that  she  would  also 
have  the  best  composition,  and  so  gain  both 
these  prizes.  She  was  not  at  all  disturbed  by 
the  fact  that  all  the  other  children,  with  whom 
gentle  and  modest  Maggie  was  much  more  of 
a  favorite  than  Gracie,  declared  their  belie' 
and  hope  that  the  former  would  be  successful. 
She  took  it  all  good-naturedly,  too  well  pleased 
with  herself  and  her  own  performances  to  be 
vexed  at  any  thing  they  could  say  ;  and  only 
answering,  with  a  self-satisfied  shake  of  the 
head,  that  they  would  "  see  who  was  the  smart- 
est when  the  day  came." 

She  was  really  fond  of  Maggie  Bradford,  and 
felt  sorry  for  the  disappointment  she  thought 
was  in  store  for  her;  and  would  have  been 
glad  if  two  composition  prizes  had  been  offered, 
BO  that  her  little  companion  might  have  one, 
provided  that  the  first  came  to  herself.  Her  fa- 
ther and  mother  would  have  been  better  pleased 
that  she  should  have  had  none,  and  so  learned 


Bessie's  Party.  273 

that  others  could  do  as  well  and  better  than 
herself. 

The  class  had  a  good  deal  to  talk  about  that 
day,  as  soon  as  school  was  over.  The  arrange- 
ments for  the  prize-day  and  Bessie's  party 
occasioned  a  good  deal  of  chattering.  They 
were  all  welcome  to  talk  of  the  latter  as  much 
as  they  pleased,  and  to  say  how  delightful  it 
would  be,  and  how  much  they  expected  to  en- 
joy themselves ;  only  on  no  account  was  any 
one  to  say  she  was  coming  before  she  received 
her  written  invitation,  and  answered  it  in  form. 
Maggie  was  very  particular  on  that  point. 

The  invitations  were  all  sent  and  accepted 
in  the  most  ceremonious  manner,  and  quite  to 
Maggie's  satisfaction,  on  the  following  day, 
which  was  Saturday. 

Even  Belle  Powers,  who  came  to  spend  the 
day  with  Maggie  and  Bessie,  received  her  note 
the  moment  she  entered  the  house,  and  was 
requested  to  answer  it  before  they  began  to 
play,  which  she  did  on  a  sheet  of  Bessie's 
stamped  paper.  To  be  sure,  a  slight  difficulty 
18 


274  Bessie  at  School. 

arose  from  the  fact  that  the  initials  B.  R.  B. 
did  not  stand  well  for  Belle  Powers ;  but  that 
was  speedily  remedied  by  Maggie,  who,  with 
her  usual  readiness  for  overcoming  such  obsta- 
cles, suggested  that  they  might  for  once  be 
supposed  to  stand  for  "  Beloved,  Reasonable 
Belle ;  "  an  idea  which  met  with  the  highest 
approbation  from  the  other  children.  Nor  was 
it  of  the  slightest  consequence  that  Maggie 
was  herself  obliged  to  dictate  the  words  in 
which  the  invitation  was  to  be  accepted.  It 
was  enough  that  it  was  accepted  ;  and  this  im- 
portant business  being  satisfactorily  concluded, 
they  all  went  happily  to  their  play. 

Tuesday  afternoon  came,  bringing  with  it  the 
merry,  happy  party  to  keep  Bessie's  birthday. 
Besides  her  young  classmates,  there  were  half 
a  dozen  other  little  ones  ;  the  family  from  Riv- 
erside and  from  grandmamma's ;  Mr.  Hall  and 
Mr.  Powers;  and  last  and  least,  but  by  no 
means  the  person  of  smallest  importance,  Mrs. 
Rush's  bright,  three-months-old  baby,  May 
Bessie,  the  "  subject "  of  Maggie's  famous 


Bessie's  Party.  275 

composition,  and  our  Bessie's  particular  pet 
and  darling. 

Bessie  had  a  fancy,  —  no  one  could  tell  how 
it  had  arisen,  —  that  the  baby's  pretty  second 
name  had  been  given  for  her.  Perhaps  if  :'t 
had  been  necessary  to  undeceive  her,  young 
Mrs.  Stanton  might  have  laid  claim  to  the 
honor ;  but,  seeing  the  child's  satisfaction  in 
the  idea,  no  one  had  the  heart  to  do  so.  It 
gave  her  a  special  interest  in  the  baby,  and 
Mrs.  Bradford  and  Colonel  Rush  were  rather 
glad  that  it  should  be  so,  for  they  had  feared 
that  Bessie  might  think  the  Colonel  would 
care  less  for  her,  now  that  he  had  a  little 
daughter  of  his  own  to  pet  and  love. 

But  no  shade  of  that  slight  feeling  of  jeal- 
ousy with  which  Bessie  had  sometimes  to  do 
battle,  seemed  to  have  been  called  forth  by 
this  new  claimant  on  the  hearts  of  her  friends. 
Her  delight  in  it  was  pure  and  unselfish  ;  and 
it  was  for  her  and  Maggie  a  fresh  source  of 
pleasure  whenever  they  visited  Colonel  and 
Mrs.  Rush. 


276  Bessie  at  Schoot. 

And  Maggie,  partly  to  please  Bessie,  partly 
''  for  a  compliment  to  Uncle  Horace  and  Aunt 
May,"  had  discarded  all  other  subjects  of  com- 
position, and  taken  this  dear  baby  ;  telling 
how  a  little  angel  had  wandered  down  from 
heaven  to  earth  to  see  if  it  could  be  of  any  use 
there,  and  falling  in  with  "  a  brave,  lame  sol- 
lier,"  and  his  wife,  concluded  that  it  could  not 
lo  better  than  stay  and  make  them  happy ; 
:'  because  they  deserved  to  have  a  little  bit  of 
heaven  in  their  home,"  wrote  Maggie. 

"  A  little  bit  of  heaven  "  the  baby  had  cer- 
tainly brought  with  it,  as  the  darlings  usually 
do ;  and  had  Aunt  May  needed  any  farther 
reward  than  she  had  already  received  for  the 
loving  teachings  she  had  bestowed  on  her 
young  Sunday  scholars,  she  would  have  found 
it  in  the  joy  which  they  took  in  her  joy,  and 
in  this  pretty,  simple  story  of  Maggie's,  which 
she  laughed  over  and  cried  over,  and  then  pri- 
vately copied,  putting  the  copy  carefully  away 
with  some  other  small  treasures  which  were 
very  dear. 


Bessie's  Party.  277 

The  birthday  party  could  not  be  expected  to 
go  off  well,  unless  that  very  considerate  "  little 
angel  "  took  part  in  it ;  and  so  Aunt  May  had 
been  coaxed  to  let  her  come  for  a  short  time. 
And  certainly  no  young  lady  ever  received  a 
greater  share  of  attention  at  her  first  party, 
than  did  this  little  queen,  who  took  it  all  in 
the  most  dignified  manner,  and  as  if  it  were  a 
thing  to  which  she  was  quite  accustomed. 

May  Bessie  had  just  been  carried  away  by 
her  nurse,  when  Gracie  Howard  came  in,  car- 
rying in  one  hand  a  lovely  bouquet,  in  the  other 
a  roll  of  paper  neatly  tied  with  a  scarlet  rib- 
bon. The  former  she  presented  to  Bessie  ;  and 
the  other  children,  supposing  the  latter  to  be 
some  pretty  picture,  expected  to  see  that  placed 
in  the  same  hands. 

But  that  did  not  follow  ;  and  presently,  when 
Maggie  asked,  "  What  would  you  all  like  to 
play  first  ? "  Gracie  untied  the  ribbon,  and 
said,  — 

"  I've  brought  my  prize  composition,  and 
I'll  read  it  aloud.  Don't  you  want  to  hear  it  ?  " 


278  Bessie  at  School. 

"  No,"  said  Dora  Johnson  and  Mamie  Stone : 
"  we  don't." 

"  Oh,  but  you  must !  "  said  Gracie,  unrolling 
her  paper  and  jumping  upon  a  chair. 

"  Proudy !  Proudy  !  "  said  Fanny  Leroy  ; 
"  you  are  always  wanting  to  show  off  your  own 
compositions." 

"  Before  I'd  think  so  much  of  myself,"  cried 
another.  But  Gracie,  nothing  daunted,  turned 
to  Bessie,  and  said,  — 

"  You  want  to  hear  it :  don't  you,  Bessie  ? 
and  it's  your  party." 

"  No,"  said  Bessie,  her  politeness  struggling 
with  her  truthftilness  and  resentment  at  Gra- 
de's vanity.  "  I  don't  want  to  hear  it ;  but 
I'll  let  you  read  it,  if  you  are  so  very  anxious." 

This  was  permission  enough  for  Gracie ;  and 
she  read  aloud  the  composition  with  an  air 
and  tone  which  seemed  to  say,  "  There !  do 
better  than  that  if  you  can  !  " 

Maggie  and  Bessie  listened,  feeling  bound 
to  do  so,  as  Gracie  was  company  ;  and  more- 
over they  both  had  a  strong  desire  to  judge 


Bessie's  Party.  -279 

for  themselves  if  her  composition  was  likely 
to  prove  the  best.  Two  or  three  of  the  other 
little  girls  remained  also  from  curiosity ;  but 
the  most  of  them  walked  away  in  great  dis- 
gust at  Grade's  love  of  "  showing  off." 

Several  of  the  grown  people  were  at  the 
other  end  of  the  room,  and  Gracie  raised  her 
voice  that  they  might  also  have  the  benefit  of 
her  performance ;  but  to  her  great  mortifica- 
tion, not  one  of  them  seemed  to  pay  the  slight- 
est attention.  The  truth  was  they  all  heard 
well  enough,  but  none  of  them  chose  to  gratify 
the  conceited  little  puss  by  letting  her  suppose 
they  were  listening. 

Maggie's  countenance  fell,  as  Gracie  went 
on,  but  Bessie's  brightened  ;  and,  at  the  close, 
she  drew  a  long  breath  of  satisfaction. 

"  There  !  "  said  Gracie,  triumphantly : 
l'  shan't  I  have  the  prize  for  that  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  Bessie : "  I  don't  believe  you  will. 
It  is  very  nice,  Gracie,  but  my  Maggie's  is  a 
great  deal  better  ;  oh,  yes !  a  great  deal  bet- 
ter. It  is  beautiful !  I'm  sorry  for  you,  if 


280  Bessie  at  School. 

you're  disappointed ;  but  I  know  hers  is  the 
best,  and  I'm  very  glad  for  Maggie." 

"  You'd  better  not  be  so  sure  I'll  be  disap 
pointed,"  said  Gracie. 

Bessie  did  not  answer ;  but  the  very  satis- 
fied look  with  which  she  turned  to  her  sister 
provoked  Gracie. 

"  You  think  Maggie  is  so  great ! "  she  said. 

"  Yes,  I  do,"  answered  Bessie,  defiantly. 

"  And  I'd  rather  think  my  sister  great  than 
think  myself  great,"  said  Nellie  Ransom. 

Here  Mrs.  Bradford,  hearing  that  the  young 
voices  were  not  very  good-natured  in  their 
tones,  came  to  prevent  a  quarrel ;  and  Annie 
Stanton  following,  proposed  a  game  of  hide- 
and-seek.  It  was  readily  agreed  to,  and  peace 
was  restored. 

The  game  went  on  for  some  time  with  great 
success,  and  at  last  it  came  to  Bessie's  turn 
to  be  hidden.  Sending  the  seekers  to  theii 
gathering  place  in  the  dining-room,  Aunt 
Annie  took  her  to  the  library,  and  hid  her 
snugly  away  in  a  corner  behind  a  tall  pedestal. 


Bessie's  Party.  281 

drawing  the  window-curtain  about  it  so  as  to 
conceal  her  still  further. 

As  Bessie  lay  there,  listening  to  the  roices 
of  the  other  children  as  they  wandered,  now 
nearer,  now  farther  off,  in  their  search  for  her, 
her  Uncle  Ruthven  and  Colonel  Rush  came 
into  the  library,  and  placed  themselves  by  the 
window  near  which  she  lay  hidden. 

"  I'm  here  in  the  corner,  Uncle  Ruthven  ; 
but  please  don't  take  any  notice  for  fear  the 
other  children  know,"  she  whispered,  but  so 
softly  that  neither  of  the  gentlemen  heard  her, 
and  went  on  talking  without  knowing  who 
was  near  them. 

"  That  little  Howard  is  an  uncommonly 
clever  child,"  said  Mr.  Stanton,  presently. 
"  That  composition  is  quite  beyond  her 
years." 

"  H'm,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  conceited  little 
monkey ! " 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Stanton :  "  it  is  really 
painful  to  see  an  otherwise  pleasant  child  so 
pert  and  forward." 


282  Bessie  at  School. 

"  It  is  a  great  pity,"  said  the  Colonel,  "  a 
great  pity.  I  hope  her  self-conceit  may  not 
be  encouraged  by  receiving  the  prize." 

"  I  have  no  doubt  that  it  will  fall  to  her," 
said  Uncle  Ruthven.  "  You  must  acknowl- 
edge that,  pretty  as  our  Maggie's  composition 
is,  this  of  Gracie's  goes  before  it  in  all  those 
particulars  which  would  be  likely  to  take  a 
prize." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Colonel  Rush,  reluctantly, 
"  I  suppose  it  does.  I  do  not  know  that  I 
should  be  an  unprejudiced  judge  in  this  mat- 
ter, owing  to  my  special  interest  in  Maggie's 
subject,"  he  added,  laughing ;  "  and  the  sim- 
plicity and  poetry  of  her  little  story  have  gone 
very  close  to  my  heart.  But,  apart  from  this, 
I  do  not  think  it  will  be  well  for  Gracie  to 
gain  the  prize  ;  though  I  fear  with  you  that 
she  will  be  the  successful  candidate." 

Bessie  did  not  know  what  "  candidate " 
meant ;  but  she  understood  very  well  that  her 
uncle  and  the  Colonel  thought  that  Gracie 
would  gain  the  prize  ;  and  who  could  be  better 
judges  than  they  ? 


Bessie's  Party.  283 

She  sat  motionless  with  grief  and  amaze- 
ment, forgetting  her  game,  forgetting  every 
thing  but  Maggie's  disappointment  and  her 
own.  She  did  not  hear  any  thing  more  that 
was  said  by  the  two  gentlemen  :  she  did  not 
notice  when  Uncle  Ruthven  opened  the  win- 
dow, and  they  both  stepped  out  upon  the 
piazza ;  and  when,  a  moment  later,  Lily  Norris 
drew  aside  the  curtain,  and  joyfully  exclaimed, 
"  Here  she  is !  "  Bessie  felt  almost  angry  that 
she  was  forced  to  come  forth  from  her  hiding- 
place. 

She  was  not  cross,  however:  she  did  not 
even  let  the  tears  find  way  ;  but  her  pleasure 
in  her  birthday  party  was  quite  gone.  Not 
even  that  wonderful  magic-lantern,  which  was 
displayed  as  soon  as  it  was  dark,  to  the  great 
delight  of  the  other  children,  could  give  her 
any  satisfaction ;  and  it  was  impossible  to 
look  at  the  troubled  little  face  without  seeing 
that  something  had  happened  greatly  to  dis- 
turb her. 


284  Bessie  at  School. 

ailed  her,  till  all  the  young  guests  had  gone, 
and  mamma  had  taken  her  upstairs,  when 
she  repeated,  as  nearly  as  she  could,  what  her 
uncle  and  Colonel  Rush  had  said. 

Maggie,  too,  was  dismayed  at  this  sudden 
downfall  of  her  hopes ;  for  she  agreed  with 
Bessie  that  Uncle  Ruthven  and  the  Colonel 
must  know ;  and  their  mother,  who  had  also 
heard  Grade's  composition,  could  not  encour- 
age them  by  giving  a  contrary  opinion. 

"  I  must  really  say,  dear  Maggie,"  she  said, 
"  that  I  would  rather  have  yours  than 
Gracie's ;  but  I  think  that  hers  is  almost 
sure  to  be  the  successful  one." 

"  And  all  Maggie's  pains  are  lost,"  said 
Bessie  mournfully. 

"  Not  at  all,  dear.  Maggie  has  done  all 
she  could  be  asked  to  do,  her  very  best ;  and 
it  is  no  fault  of  hers  if  another  has  in  some 
respects  done  better.  And  her  pains  are  by 
no  means  thrown  away,  if  it  were  only  for 
the  pleasure  her  story  has  given  to  our  dear 
Colonel  and  Mrs.  Rush." 


Bessie's  Party.  285 

"  Then  I'm  glad  I  took  them."  said  Maggie , 
"  but,  oh,  mamma ! "  and  she  ended  with  a 
long  sigh. 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  and  I  know  the 
Colonel  thinks  your  composition  is  splendid, 
Maggie  ;  and  he  would  rather  you  should  have 
the  prize." 

"  I  was  afraid  when  I  heard  Gracie  read 
hers,"  said  Maggie.  "  It  sounded  so  much 
more  grown-up-y  than  mine.  Mamma,  did  it 
make  you  feel  sorry  too  ?  " 

"  No,  darling.  I  will  tell  you  what  I  felt : 
that  I  would  rather  have  my  own  Maggie  as 
she  is,  even  without  the  slightest  hope  of  a 
prize,  than  to  see  her  vain  and  forward,  aid 
winning  the  richest  of  earthly  rewards." 


xin. 

LOST  AND  FOUND. 

|  HE  children  were  just  ready  to  start 
for  school  the  next  morning,  and 
papa  had  promised  to  walk  as  far  as 
Mrs.  Ashton's  door  with  them,  when  there 
was  a  violent  ringing  at  the  bell ;  and  when 
the  front  door  was  opened,  in  rushed  Gracie 
Howard,  flushed  and  excited,  and  with  her 
face  wearing  the  marks  of  a  hard  fit  of  crying. 

Her  father  followed  her. 

"  Oh !  "  exclaimed  Gracie,  without  waiting 
to  say  "  good-morning "  herself,  or  allowing 
any  one  else  to  do  so,  "  have  you  seen  it  ? 
have  you  seen  it  ? " 

"  Seen  what  ?  "  asked  Maggie  and  Bessie  in 
a  breath. 

"  There ! "  said  Oracle,  bursting  into  tears 
again,  "  I  knew  it  1  oh !  I  just  knew  it !  I 


Lost  and  Found.  287 

told  you  I  was  sure  I  brought  it  away  with 
me,  papa." 

"  What  is  the  trouble  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Brad- 
ford, shaking  hands  with  Mr.  Howard. 

"  She  has  lost  her  composition,"  answered 
Mr.  Howard.  "  It  seems  she  brought  it  here 
yesterday  afternoon,  with  the  purpose,  I  am 
sorry  to  say,  of  making  a  display  of  it  to  her 
young  companions ;  and  this  morning  it  was 
missing.  She  is  quite  positive  she  had  it  in 
her  hands  when  she  left  your  house,  but  does 
not  recollect  bringing  it  as  far  as  our  own ; 
and  her  mother,  who  took  off  her  cloak  as 
soon  as  she  came  home,  says  she  is  quite  sure 
Gracie  carried  no  composition.  But  although 
the  child  is  so  confident,  I  thought  she  might 
be  mistaken,  and  find  she  had  left  it  here. 
Good-morning,  madam :  "  this  to  Mrs.  Brad- 
ford who  had  been  called  into  the  hall  by 
Gracie's  cries  ;  and  the  difficulty  was  next 
explained  to  her. 

"  I  believe  Gracie  is  right,"  said  the  lady 
"  She  left  the  paper  lying  on  the  library  table, 


258  Bessie  at  School. 

and  seeing  it  there  just  as  she  was  going 
away,  I  brought  it  out  and  gave  it  to  her. 
I  do  not  think  she  can  have  left  it  here ; 
but  I  will  inquire  if  the  servants  have  seen 
it." 

The  servants  were  questioned,  but  all  de- 
clared they  had  seen  nothing  of  the  missing 
paper ;  and  it  seemed  that  Gracie  must  have 
lost  it  in  the  street.  She  moaned  and  sobbed 
and  cried  as  if  she  had  lost  all  the  world  held 
dear  for  her,  and  would  not  listen  to  a  word 
of  comfort.  She  thrust  the  children  from  her 
when  they  would  have  offered  her  their  sym- 
pathy, saying  she  knew  they  were  "  glad,  be- 
cause now  Maggie  could  have  the  prize ;  "  nor 
would  she  listen  to  her  father's  entreaties  and 
commands  that  she  should  be  silent,  although, 
at  last,  he  spoke  very  severely  to  her,  and  was 
obliged  to  take  her  home,  in  spite  of  its  being 
nearly  school-time.  She  was  in  no  state  for 
school  just  then. 

Maggie  walked  slowly  by  her  father's  side 
on  the  way  to  Mrs.  Ashton's,  not  skipping  and 


Lost  and  Found.  289 

jumping  as  usual ;  and  when  they  reached 
the  stoop,  she  seized  hold  of  him,  and 
said,  — 

"  Papa,  I'm  afraid  I  feel  glad  about  Grade's 
composition.  Do  you  think  I  am  dreadfully 
awful  ?  " 

"  No,"  said  papa,  smiling :  "  I  do  not.  But 
if  I  were  you,  Maggie,  I  would  not  say  '  awful ' 
so  much.  That  is  something  you  have  learned 
at  school,  which  I  should  be  glad  to  have  you 
unlearn  as  soon  as  possible.  But  as  to  the 
composition,  —  well,  I  suppose  you  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  feel  otherwise  ;  " 
and  Mr.  Bradford  smiled  again  as  he  thought 
that  ifJie  were  questioned  he  might  be  obliged 
to  confess  to  a  share  in  Maggie's  feelings. 
"  I  believe  it  is  only  natural,  dear  ;  but  I  hope 
you  will  not  let  Gracie  see  it." 

"  Oh,  no,  papa  ! "  said  Maggie  ,  "  I  hope  1 
wouldn't  be  so  mean  as  that.  I  do  feel  sorry 
for  Gracie,  even  if  I  am  glad  for  myself  to 
nave  a  better  chance." 

"  And  we'll  try  to  be  kinder  to  Gracie  too, 

19 


290  Bessie  at  School. 

BO  she'll  have  no  reason  to  think  we're  not 
sorry  for  her,"  sayl  Bessie. 

All  this  had  made  our  little  girls  rathci 
later  than  usual ;  and  they  had  to  take  their 
places  immediately,  so  that  there  was  no  op- 
portunity to  tell  the  news  until  school  had 
been  opened,  when  Miss  Ashton,  seeing 
Gracie  was  not  present,  turned  to  Maggie 
and  said, — 

"  Gracie  is  absent.  Did  you  make  her  sick 
at  your  party  last  night,  Maggie  ? " 

Then  Maggie  told  of  Gracie's  loss  ;  and  two 
or  three  of  the  children  said  they  remembered 
quite  well  that  Mrs.  Bradford  had  come  into 
the  hall,  and  handed  Gracie  her  paper  just 
before  she  went  away. 

The  child  came  in  a  little  later,  looking  the 
very  picture  of  woe,  and  bringing  an  excuse 
for  tardiness  from  her  mother.  But  she  was 
in  no  mood  to  meet  any  extra  kindness  in  a 
gre^eful  spirit ;  and  showed  herself  altogether 
so  pettish  and  disagreeable  that  Miss  Ashton 
was  more  than  once,  obliged  to  call  her  to 


Lost  and  Found.  291 

order.  Then  she  cried  afresh,  and  said  that 
every  one  was  "  hateful,"  and  no  one  care  3 
for  her,  and  that  she  just  believed  they  would 
not  tell  her  if  they  knew  where  her  composi- 
tion was. 

"  Come  here,  Gracie,"  said  Miss  Ashton ; 
and  Gracie  went  slowly  and  reluctantly  to  her 
teacher's  side.  "  Do  you  really  think  if  any 
of  your  schoolmates  knew  where  your  com- 
position was,  they  would  not  tell  you  ?  "  said 
the  lady. 

Gracie  put  .up  her  shoulder,  hung  her  head, 
and  fidgeted  from  one  foot  to  another ;  but 
Miss  Ashton  repeated  her  question. 

Then,  her  ill-temper  getting  the  upper 
hand  of  all  her  better  feelings,  she  answered 
sulkily,  — 

"I  don't  believe  Maggie  or  Bessie  would. 
I  know  they  are  just  glad  enough." 

"  0-o-o-o-h  \  o-o-o-o-h  !  What  a  shame !  " 
and  such  exclamations  broke  from  the  other 
children.  But  Miss  Ashton  commanded 
silence. 


292  Bessie  at  School. 

"  That  is  a  grave  charge  to  bring  against 
any  one,  Gracie,  and  especially  against  those 
who  have  been  your  friends  for  so  long,"  said 
the  lady.  "  I  am  ashamed  of  you." 

And  Gracie  was  ashamed  of  herself,  though 
she  would  not  acknowledge  it ;  but  only 
pouted  the  more  at  Miss  Ashton's  gentle 
reproofl 

"  Now,  my  dear,"  said  the  lady,  "  I  cannot 
have  you  behaving  in  this  way.  You  are  in- 
terfering with  the  peace  and  comfort  of  the 
whole  class  ;  and  unless  you  can  make  up  your 
mind  to  be  reasonable,  you  must  go  and  sit  by 
yourself  in  the  cloak-room." 

Foolish  Gracie!  she  chose  the  latter,  and 
went  away  by  herself  to  nurse  her  ill-humor 
and  disappointed  vanity. 

There  was  no  time  now  to  write  another 
composition.  The  rough  sketch  of  the  first 
she  had  thrown  into  the  fire,  thinking  she 
would  never  need  it  again  ;  and  Gracie  did 
not  find  her  trouble  easier  to  bear  because  it 
was,  as  her  father  had  told  her,  the  result  of 
her  own  love  of  display. 


Lost  and  Found.  293 

Maggie  and  Bessie  were  both  hurt  and 
indignant  at  her  injustice ;  but  they  knew 
she  would  be  sorry  for  it  when  she  was  in 
a  more  reasonable  humor,  and  would  not 
agree  to  Belle's  proposal  that  '*  the  whole 
class  should  be  mad  with  her  as  long  as 
they  lived." 

Although  Mrs.  Bradford  felt  almost  sure 
that  Grade  had  taken  the  missing  paper  away 
with  her,  and  lost  it  on  the  way  home,  she  had 
a  thorough  search  made  for  it,  but  all  in  vain. 

Harry  and  Fred,  the  latter  especially,  were 
openly  jubilant  over  the  loss,  imagining,  as 
every  one  else  did,  that  this  left  a  clear  field 
for  Maggie ;  and  declared  Mut  "  it  served 
Miss  Vanity  right,  and  they  wore  not  a  bit 
sorry  for  her." 

That  evening  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford  went 
out  to  dinner,  leaving  the  children  quietly 
amusing  themselves  in  the  library.  Harry 
was  reading  aloud  to  his  little  sisters ;  while 
Fred  was  busy  with  some  wax  flowers,  a? 
which  pretty  work  he  was  quite  expert. 


294  Bessie  at  School. 

Mossy,  not  quite  approving  of  such  quiet 
doings,  sat  on  the  corner  of  Maggie's  chair ; 
but  had  any  one  of  the  four  been  at  leisure  to 
notice  him,  they  would  have  seen  that  he  was 
watching  his  chance  for  any  bit  of  mischief 
which  might  lead  to  a  frolic. 

Fred  had  spread  a  paper  upon  the  table,  so 
that  the  blue  cloth  with  which  it  was  covered 
might  not  become  soiled  with  the  wax  and 
other  materials  with  which  he  was  busy.  He 
was  generally  ready  enough  to  indulge  Flossy 
with  a  game  of  play ;  and  the  dog,  finding  that 
he  could  attract  attention  in  no  other  way, 
suddenly  jumped  up,  and  seized  the  corner  of 
the  paper,  dragging  it  half  off  the  table,  and 
upsetting  a  little  saucer  of  pink  powder  with 
which  Fred  was  coloring  the  rose  he  was 
making. 

Fred  was  provoked,  and  sent  him  off  with 
a  cuff  upon  his  ear,  instead  of  the  romp  ho 
had  been  looking  for ;  then  set  about  repair- 
ing the  damage  he  had  caused  as  speedily  as 
possible,  his  brother  and  sisters  coming  to  his 
help. 


Lost  and  Found.  205 

Some  of  the  pink  powder  had  gone  upon 
the  table,  and  though  Harry  took  it  up  care- 
fully with  a  paper-knife,  it  left  its  traces 
behind. 

"  Oh !  won't  Patrick  be  in  a  taking  when 
he  sees  the  table  ?  "  said  Fred. 

"Tt  will  come  off,  I  guess,"  said  Harry. 
"  Let's  brush  it  up,  so  as  not  to  vex  his  old 
soul.  Bessie,  run  and  bring  the  whisk  brush 
out  of  the  drawer  in  the  hall  table :  that's  a 
pet." 

Away  ran  Bessie  into  the  hall,  and  going 
to  the  table,  pulled  open  the  drawer.  As  she 
did  so,  she  heard  something  slip,  with  a  little 
rustle  like  that  of  paper ;  but  she  did  not  pay 
much  attention  to  it  till  she  tried  to  shut  the 
drawer,  and  found  that  there  was  something 
in  the  way  which  prevented  it  from  closing 
tight. 

Many  children  would  have  run  away  without 
waiting  to  see  what  was  wrong,  but  that  did 
not  suit  at  all  with  Bessie's  neat,  orderly 
ways.  Once  more  she  pulled  out  the  drawer, 


Bessie  at  School. 

which  moved  stiffly  as  if  it  caught  upon  some- 
thing, and  peeped  within.  At  first,  she  could 
not  see  any  thing  ;  and  she  drew  it  farther  out. 
Again  there  came  that  rustle  of  paper  ;  and,  as 
she  peered  in,  there,  over  the  back  of  the 
drawer,  half  in,  half  out,  was  something  white 
with  —  Bessie  could  not  see  very  distinctly, 
and  she  would  not  venture  another  glance,  — 
with  something  that  looked  as  if  it  might  be 
an  end  of  scarlet  ribbon  hanging  from  it.  She 
started,  shut  up  the  drawer  hastily,  thrusting 
it  as  far  in  as  she  could,  and  ran  back  to  the 
library  with  her  heart  beating  fast. 

"  Hallo ! "  said  Fred,  as  he  put  out  his 
hand  to  take  the  brush  from  her,  "  what  has 
frightened  you  ?  You  look  as  if  you'd  seen 
something." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  say  1  saw  any 
thing,"  said  Bessie,  in  a  tone  so  sharp  and 
angry  that  her  brothers  and  sister  looked  at 
her  in  great  surprise. 

"  Whew  !  "  said  Fred.  "  You  seem  to  have 
picked  up  a  fit  of  crossness  any  way.  I'd  like 


Lost  and  Found.  297 

to  know  what  has  come  over  you  so  sud- 
denly." 

"  You  can  just  hush  and  let  me  alone,"  said 
Bessie.  "  I'll  never  bring  you  a  brush  again, 
Fred  ; "  and  then  she  ran  out  of  the  room,' 
and  upstairs  as  fast  as  she  could  go. 

"  Well,  did  you  ever  ?  "  exclaimed  Fred. 

"  What  can  ail  her  ?  "  said  Harry.  «  She 
surely  did  not  mind  going  for  the  brush  ?  " 

"  Why,  no,"  answered  Fred :  "  she  seemed 
ready  enough  ;  but  she  came  back  the  next 
moment  in  such  a  fume,  and  looking  scared 
out  of  her  wits." 

"  I'm  going  to  see,"  said  Maggie :  "  she'll 
tell  me  ;  "  and  she  ran  after  Bessie. 

But  Maggie  was  mistaken. 

She  found  Bessie  in  their  mother's  room, 
her  angry  mood  passing  away ;  but  she  still 
looked  flushed  and  troubled,  and  to  all  Mag- 
gie's anxious  questioning,  she  would  give  no 
satisfactory  answer. 

"You  must  have  seen  something  that 
frightened  you  :  didn't  you,  Bessie  ?  " 


298  Bessie  at  School. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Bessie  :  "  I  was 
frightened ;  but  I  -don't  know  if  I  saw  what  I 
saw,  —  I  mean  I  don't  know  if  I  saw  what  I 
thought  I  saw,  and  I  didn't  want  to  look 
again." 

"  Was  it  a  robber  ?  "  asked  Maggie. 

"  No,"  said  Bessie.  "  If  it  had  been  a 
robber,  I'd  have  said,  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal,' 
and  then  run  for  Patrick  to  take  him  to  the 
policeman." 

"  I  guess  he  wouldn't  have  waited  till 
Patrick  came,"  said  Maggie.  "  But  tell  me 
about  it,  Bessie." 

"  Not  now,  Maggie.  Maybe  I'll  have  to 
tell  you  some  other  time  ;  but  you  wouldn't 
like  to  hear  it,  and  I'll  have  to  think  about 
it  first.  Oh  !  I  do  wish  mamma  was  home  ! '' 

"  Is  it  a  weight  on  your  mind  ? "  asked 
Maggie,  who,  as  well  as  her  sister,  was  very 
fond  of  this  expression. 

Bessie  nodded  assent  with  a  long  and 
golemn  shake  of  her  head. 

" I  think  you  might  tell  me"  said  Maggie. 


L.ost  and  Found.  299 

"  I  don't  mean  to  keep  it  secret  from  you 
for  ever  and  ever,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but  you  see 
I'm  not  quite  sure  about  something,  and  I'm 
'fraid  I  ought  to  make  myself  sure.  And 
if  I  was  sure,  I  would  not  know  what  I 
ought  to  do.  It  is  very  hard  to  think  what 
is  right  about  it." 

Maggie  looked  wonderingly  into  her  sister's 
puzzled  face.  What  could  have  happened  to 
trouble  her  so  in  that  moment  or  two  she 
was  out  in  the  hall  ?  But  anxious  though 
she  was,  she  asked  no  more  questions,  know- 
ing that  Bessie  would  tell  her  this  wonderful 
secret  when  she  was  ready. 

"  There's  the  bell  for  our  supper,"  she 
said.  "  Come  down,  and  don't  bother  your- 
self any  more  about  it." 

Bessie  obeyed  the  first  injunction,  but  the 
second  was  out  of  her  power.  She  was  no 
longer  cross,  however,  and  begged  Fred's  par- 
don for  having  spoken  so  pettishly  to  him  ; 
but  she  sent  away  her  supper  almost  untasted, 
and  continued  thoughtful  and  rather  mournful 


300  Bessit  at  School. 

till  her  bedtime.  She  was  really  glad  when 
that  hour  came,  and  she  was  safe  in  bed,  when 
she  could  think  over  this  troublesome  matter 
in  quiet,  and  ask  for  the  help  which  never 
failed  her. 

She  thought  she  should  stay  awake  till  her 
mother  came  home,  and  as  she  lay  tossing 
and  restless,  it  seemed  to  her  that  mamma 
was  staying  away  half  the  night.  But  al- 
though it  was  not  really  so  very  late,  she  had 
dropped  off  to  sleep  before  her  mother  came 
to  see  if  her  little  girls  were  all  safe  and  quiet 
for  the  night ;  and  mamma  was  sorry  to  find 
Bessie's  face  and  pillow  wet  with  tears. 

Nurse  could  not  tell  what  the  trouble  had 
been,  only  that  Bessie  had  seemed  dull  and 
out  of  spirits  when  she  put  her  to  bed,  and 
would  not  say  what  ailed  her. 

The  little  girl  woke  very  early  the  next 
morning,  and  finding  Maggie  still  sleeping, 
she  lay  quietly  thinking. 

Thinking  of  that  which  had  troubled  and 
puzzled  her  so  last  night ;  but  now  it  seemed 
all  clear. 


Lost  and  Found.  301 

She  feared  that  the  paper  which  she  had 
seen  in  the  drawer  was  Grade's  composi- 
tion; but  she  was  not  sure;  and  she  had 
had  a  hard  struggle  with  herself,  trying  to 
believe  that  it  was  not  her  duty  to  go  and 
find  out. 

A  voice  had  whispered  to  her,  "  What  is 
the  good  of  looking  ?  You  only  saw  a  paper 
which  may  be  Gracie's,  and  may  not  be  ;  and 
it  is  none  of  your  business.  Just  let  it  alone, 
and  trouble  yourself  no  more  about  it.  If  you 
found  it  was  really  the  lost  composition,  what 
would  you  do  then  ?  Go  and  tell  every  one, 
and  take  away  Maggie's  chance  for  the  prize  ? 
Remember  what  your  uncle  and  the  Colonel 
said.  And  does  not  every  one  say  that  Grade 
is  only  properly  punished  for  her  vanity ? 
Why  should  you  interfere  ?  If  you  did  know 
that  was  the  missing  paper,  is  there  any 
reason  why  you  should  tell  where  it  is  ?  If 
you  injure  Gracie  by  keeping  it  back,  do  you 
not  injure  Maggie  by  bringing  it  to  light  ? 
Maggie  is  your  sister,  your  own  dear  little 


302  Bessie  at  School. 

sister ;  and  surely  you  ought  to  consider  hei 
first,  and  do  what  is  best  for  her." 

"  But,"  said  Conscience,  "is  it  right,  is  it 
just  ?  How  would  you  feel  towards  any  one 
who  did  this  to  Maggie  ?  Would  you  not  say 
they  had  acted  unfairly  and  meanly  towards 
her  ?  Would  you  like  your  papa  or  mamma 
or  any  other  person  to  know  it  ?  Will  Jesus 
be  pleased  with  you,  and  think  you  are  acting 
as  His  own  little  child  should  do  ? " 

Poor  little  thing!  She  was  really  sorely 
puzzled.  She  could  not  make  it  seem  right 
to  do  what  she  wished  to  do,  and  what  seemed 
to  be  best  for  her  sister ;  and  yet  how  could  she 
make  up  her  mind  to  do  what  appeared  so 
unkind  to  her  own  Maggie  ?  Oh,  if  mamma 
were  only  there  to  help  her  to  know  what  was 
right  and  best !  Well,  all  she  could  do  was 
to  tell  her  all  her  doubts  in  the  morning. 

Such  were  the  thoughts  which  had  dis- 
turbed her  last  night,  and  called  forth  the 
tears  with  which  mamma  had  found  her  pil- 
Icw  wet ;  but  this  morning  the  struggle  waa 


Lost  and  Found.  303 

over,  and  Bessie  felt  quite  sure  that  there  was 
only  one  right  thing  for  her  to  do. 

She  lay  still  till  Maggie  woke,  and  then 
said,  "  Maggie,  are  you  wide  awake  ?  'cause  I 
have  a  bad  news  to  tell  you." 

Maggie,  who  was  always  very  wide  awake, 
and  ready  for  the  day's  business  the  moment 
her  eyes  were  open,  answered,  eager  with  ex- 
pectation :  "  Oh,  yes !  very  wide  indeed.  Is 
it  about  what  troubled  you  last  night,  Bessie  ? 
Tell  me  quick." 

"Yes,"  said  Bessie,  slowly;  "but  first  ] 
want  to  ask  you  something,  dear  Maggie.  If 
I  had  to  do  a  very  unkind  thing  to  you,  or  to 
some  other  person,  what  would  you  think  I 
ought  to  do  ?  " 

"  Why,"  said  Maggie,  sitting  up  in  her  little 
bed,  "  I  would  think  you  ought  to  choose 
that  other  person  to  do  it  to.  I'm  your  sister, 
you  know,"  in  a  tone  as  if  this  quite  settled 
the  question. 

"  Yes,"  said  poor  Bessie,  with  a  sigh.  "  But 
then,  Maggie,  what  if  I  thought  it  most  right 
to  do  it  to  you  ?  " 


304  Bessie  at  Schoot. 

"  Well,"  said  Maggie,  hugging  up  hei 
knees,  and  leaning  her  chin  against  them, 
while  she  gazed  in  surprise  at  Bessie,  "  well, 
if  you  thought  such  a  queer  thing  as  that  — 
why,  I'd  have  to  think  you  were  a  little  bit 
crazy,  Bessie." 

"  Yes,  if  I  wanted  to  do  it,  Maggie  ;  but  you 
know  I  would  rather  do  an  unkind  thing  to 
any  one  than  you.  But  if  it  seemed  the  truest, 
the  honestest  way,  would  you  think  I  was 
crazy  then  ?  " 

"  Well,  no,"  said  Maggie,  rather  doubtfully ; 
"  but  I  don't  see  how  that  could  be,  Bessie  ; 
and  I  can't  judge  much  if  you  don't  tell  me 
more  about  it." 

"  Maggie,  last  night  when  I  went  to  the 
drawer  in  the  hall-table,  I  saw  something  there, 
way  far  back,  that  looked  like  a  rolled-up 
paper." 

"  Well  ? "  said  Maggie. 

"  And  I  think,  but  I  am  not  sure,  that  it  had 
a  piece  of  red  ribbon  on  it ;  but  I  did  not  wait 
to  look  again,  and  shut  up  the  drawer  very 
quick." 


Lost  and  Found.  305 

"  Oh !  "  said  Maggie,  as  she  released  her 
olasp  on  her  knees,  and  rolled  over  on  her  pil- 
low ;  "  then  that  was  what  ailed  you  last  night, 
I  s'pose." 

"  Yes,"  answered  Bessie,  piteously  ;  "  and 
you  know  what  I  thought  it  looked  like  :  don't 
you,  Maggie  ?  " 

"  Well,  yes,"  said  Maggie,  taking  the  news 
much  more  coolly  than  Bessie  had  supposed 
she  would.  "  I  s'pose  you  thought  it  was 
Grade's  composition  ;  and  it  was." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?  "  asked  Bessie,  start- 
ing up. 

"  'Cause  last  night  I  went  to  put  the  brush 
back  in  the  drawer,  and  when  I  pulled  it  open, 
I  heard  something  rustle,  and  I  peeped  in,  and 
poked  it  till  it  fell  out  on  the  floor ;  and  it  was 
Gracie's  paper,  all  mussed  up  and  crumpled : 
I  guess  it  came  so,  being  squeezed  up  in  the 
drawer.  So  you  see  she  didn't  take  it  away 
with  her  after  all ;  but  I  do  wonder  how  it 
came  there." 

"  But  why  didn't  you  tell  me  ?  "  asked  Bessie. 
20 


306  Bessie  at  School. 

"  Why,  I  thought  you  had  one  unhappinesH 
in  your  mind  already,"  said  Maggie ;  "  and  I 
knew  you  would  feel  rather  sorry  about  this, 
so  I  thought  I  would  not  tell  you  till  this  morn- 
ing. But  Bessie,  why  didn't  you  tell  me,  and 
why  didn't  you  look  again  and  be  sure  ?  " 

"  'Cause  I  didn't  want  to  be  sure.  0  Mag- 
gie !  you  were  a  great  deal  better  than  me.  I 
tried  to  think  I  did  not  know  what  the  paper 
was,  and  that  I  need  not  find  out  if  I  did  not 
want  to,  and  that  it  was  not  mine  to  do  any- 
thing about,  and  that  it  would  not  be  right  to 
do  such  an  unkind  thing  to  you.  But  all  I 
could  do,  it  would  seem  as  if  it  was  a  kind  of 
a  cheat,  not  very  true ;  and  I  had  to  feel  as  if 
I  ought  to  look  again,  and  if  it  was  really 
Gracie's  paper  to  give  it  to  her.  But  I  could 
not  help  praying  a  good  deal  that  '  our  Fa 
ther '  would  not  let  it  be  the  composition  ii 
He  did  not  think  it  was  very  much  the  best 
I  think  it  was  worse  than  about  the  hospital 
bed,  Maggie.  I  did  feel  so  sure  yesterday  that 
you  would  have  the  prize  now." 


Lost  and  Found.  307 

"  You  darling,  precious  ducky  !  "  said  Mag  - 
gie.     "  That  was  an  awful  temptation  for  you 
Oh  !  I  forgot.     Papa  told  me  not  to  say  '  aw- 
ful.'   But  then  that  was  really  awful ;  so  I  can 
say  it  this  time." 

"  Didn't  you  feel  a  bit  like  hiding  it,  Mag- 
gie ?  "  said  Bessie. 

"  Why,  no,"  said  Maggie.  "  I  never  thought 
about  its  being  the  composition,  till  I  picked  it 
up,  and  saw  it  was.  But  I  felt  as  provoked  as 
any  thing  for  a  moment,  —  I'm  sure  I  don't 
know  who  at,  —  but  I  just  felt  that  if  it  would 
not  be  so  awfully,  — I  mean  so  dreadfully 
—  mean,  I'd  just  like  to  tear  the  compo- 
sition up.  But  after  that,  I  was  more  sensible, 
and  then  I  remembered  about  you,  and  how 
you'd  be  provoked  too ;  so  I  put  the  paper  back 
in  the  drawer,  and  thought  I'd  tell  you  and 
mamma  this  morning,  and  then  we'd  take  it 
to  school  for  Grade." 

"  I  believe  you're  just  the  best,  darlingest 
girl  that  ever  lived !  "  exclaimed  Bessie,  look- 
ing at  her  sister  in  great  admiration  and  relief 


308  Bessie  at  School. 

«*  And  now,  dear  Maggie,  I  suppose  you  KIIO-W 
what  the  unkind  thing  was  I  had  to  do  to  you ; 
and  you  won't  think  me  a  bit  crazy,  will  you  ?  " 

"  Wliy,  no,"  said  Maggie  ;  "  you  couldn't 
help  it,  you  had  to  do  it,  so  that  I  don't  see 
that  it  was  unkind.  And  Bessie,  you  see  it 
was  a  great  deal  harder  for  you  ahout  the 
temptation  than  it  was  for  me.  If  it  had  been 
you  that  had  a  chance  for  the  prize,  I  don't 
know  if  I  could  have  stood  it :  no,  I  don't,  Bes- 
sie. There !  mamma  is  awake.  I  hear  her 
talking.  Mamma  !  mamma !  can  we  come  in 
your  bed?  We  have  a  discovery  to  tell  you." 

Mamma  said  "  yes,"  and  jumping  up,  they 
ran  into  the  other  room,  and  scrambled  into 
her  bed,  where  the  "  discovery,"  and  the  story 
of  Bessie's  temptation  and  struggle  were  soon 
told. 

"  My  dear  little  girls ! "  said  Mrs.  Bradford, 
fondly.  "  I  am  so  thankful." 

"  For  what,  mamma  ?  "  said  Maggie,  in  sur- 
prise. "  You  are  not  glad  that  Gracie's  com- 
position is  found,  are  you  ?  I  thought  it  wag 


Lost  and  Found.  309 

rather  a  misfortune;  but  then,  you  see,  we 
could  not  help  it  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  sorry"  said  her  mother,  "  since 
it  has  shown  me  that  my  fears  were  without 
cause ;  and  that  all  your  anxiety  for  these 
prizes  could  not  make  you  unfair  or  ungener- 
ous towards  another,  or  lead  either  of  you 
from  the  ways  of  truth  and  uprightness.  Yes  ; 
I  would  rather  know  this,  than  that  my  Maggie 
and  Bessie  should  gain  a  thousand  prizes." 

It  never  was  found  out  exactly  how  the  lost 
paper  came  in  that  drawer.  No  one  could 
recollect  putting  it  there  ;  and  Mrs.  Bradford 
said  Gracie  must  have  laid  it  on  the  table  after 
she  brought  it  out  to  her,  and  some  person 
have  caught  it  up  with  other  things,  and  thrust 
it  in  without  noticing  it.  That  drawer  had 
been  searched  with  other  places,  but  the  paper 
had  been  pushed  out  of  sight,  till  Bessie  heard 
the  rustle  and  discovered  it 


XIV. 

THE  A  WARD. 

IRACIE  was  not  at  school  that  morn- 
ing, for  the  child  had  actually  cried 
herself  sick  on  the  previous  day ;  but 
when  Maggie  gave  her  own  composition  to 
Miss  Ashton  to  be  placed  in  her  uncle's  hands, 
she  gave  Gracie's  with  it,  as  she  knew  her  lit- 
tle friend  would  wish. 

"  And  where  was  it  found,  dear  ? "  asked 
Miss  Ashton,  who  stood  leaning  against  the 
window  of  the  back  room  with  her  arm  about 
Belle  Powers'  waist ;  while  most  of  the  girls, 
large  and  small,  were  gathered  about  her,  en- 
joying the  sweet  spring  air  which  came  in 
through  the  open  sash. 

How  pleasant  the  old  garden  looked  this 
bright  May  morning,  with  the  early  leaves  just 
budding  forth,  its  peach-trees  covered  with 


The  Award.  311 

delicate  pink  blossoms,  its  crocuses,  violets,  and 
tulips  all  in  full  bloom,  the  pigeons  dressing 
their  feathers  on  the  stone  wall,  the  guinea 
hens  and  two  peacocks  strutting  about,  and 
the  sparrows  and  other  small  birds  twittering 
and  hopping  among  the  branches  ! 

Maggie  told  where  and  how  she  had  found 
the  paper. 

"  And  were  you  not  put  out  when  you  found 
it  ?  "  said  Kate  Maynard,  thoughtlessly. 

Maggie  looked  up  into  the  laughing  face, 
and  answered  candidly,  "Yes,  Miss  Kate,  I 
was ;  but  I  think  I'm  over  that  now." 

"  Maggie  was  very  good  indeed  about  it,  Miss 
Kate,"  said  Bessie,  quickly.  "  Nobody  could 
be  better.  Mamma  was  very  much  pleased 
with  her." 

"  Maggie  is  just  a  great  deal  too  good,"  said 
Dora  Johnson.  "  She  ought  to  have  left  it 
in  the  drawer,  and  not  said  a  word  about  it. 
/  would  have,  and  good  enough  for  thai 
proudy." 

"  Dora,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  "  I  do  not  thiufe 


312  Bessie  at  School. 

you  would  have  done  a  thing  like  that :  would 
you,  my  dear  ?  " 

"  Well'm,"  said  Dora,  "  if  it  had  been  foi 
myself,  maybe  I  wouldn't ;  but  if  I  had  known 
Gracie's  composition  was  there,  I  wouldn't 
have  told  her  to  make  a  chance  against  Mag- 
gie." 

"I  wouldn't  either,"  said  Belle,  "Let's 
throw  it  away  again,  and  not  tell  Gracie ; " 
and  quick  and  impulsive  as  she  always  was, 
she  snatched  the  unlucky  paper  from  Miss 
Ashton's  hand,  and  tossed  it  with  all  her  little 
strength  out  of  the  window. 

What  would  Gracie  have  said  to  see  her 
much-thought-of  composition  so  scornfully 
handled  ?  But  it  did  not  come  to  much  fur- 
ther harm.  Falling  upon  the  roof  of  the 
piazza  below,  it  only  rolled  down  to  the  edge 
and  lay  there. 

"  No,  no,  little  Belle,"  said  Miss  Ashton, 
speaking  in  the  gentle,  excusing  tone,  which 
all,  teachers  and  scholars,  used  to  the  mother- 
less child  of  an  over-indulgent,  rather  spoiling 


The  Award.  313 

father.  "  No,  no,  little  Belle :  that  is  naughty. 
You  would  not  be  unfair  to  Gracie  even  for 
your  favorite  Maggie,  would  you  ?  " 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Belle,  decidedly.  "  I  would. 
Maggie  is  the  best." 

"  But  it  is  who  has  the  best  composition, 
not  who  is  the  best  child,"  said  Miss  Ashton. 
"  And  we  are  net  the  judges  of  that :  all  must 
have  the  same  chance." 

"  I  wish  I  were  the  judges,"  said  Belle,  re 
gardless  of  grammar ;  "  and  I  would  give 
prizes  for  every  thing,  and  all  to  Maggie  and 
Bessie;  but  only  one  for  Miss  Ashton,"  and 
she  patted  affectionately  the  hand  about  her 
waist.  "  Anyhow,  Gracie  can't  get  that  now. 
When  it  rains,  it  will  be  all  spoiled." 

The  girls  laughed  at  the  satisfied  tone  and 
nod  of  the  head  which  accompanied  these 
words ;  but  Miss  Ashton  said,  "  Oh,  no,  Belle  ! 
I  shall  send  Marcia  out  to  pick  it  up.  We 
must  all  be  just  to  one  another :  must  we  not, 
Bessie  ?  "  and  she  smiled  into  the  earnest  eyea 
which  were  looking  up  into  hers,  though  she 


314  Bessie  at  School. 

had  no  idea  of  the  struggle  which  her  truthful 
little  scholar  had  gone  through  before  she 
could  make  up  her  mind  that  justice  to  Gracie 
was  not  something  very  like  injustice  to  her 
own  dear  Maggie. 

"  Well,"  said  Kate,  laughing  and  rubbing 
Maggie's  cheeks  between  her  hands  till  they 
were  even  rosier  than  was  natural  to  them, 
"  if  the  composition  prize  were  to  go  by  favor, 
we  all  know  who  would  have  it :  do  we  not, 
Maggie  ? " 

Yes,  this  was  so ;  and  Gracie,  really  a  pleas- 
ant, affectionate  child,  had  arrayed  all  her 
schoolmates  against  her  by  her  self-conceit  and 
vanity,  till  not  one  of  them  was  ready  to  be 
pleased  at  the  possibility  of  her  gaining  the 
prize. 

She  lay  upon  the  sofa  that  afternoon,  recov- 
ering from  the  headache  into  which  she  had 
cried  herself.  She  still  looked  as  if  she  felt 
very  wretchedly  both  in  mind  and  body,  and 
lay  idly  playing  with  the  tassels  of  the  sofa- 
cushions,  thinking,  thinking  of  her  lost  treas- 


The  Award.  315 

ure.  Her  father  sat  by  the  table,  writing; 
her  mother  by  the  window,  playing  with  her 
little  brother. 

"  Why ! "  said  Mrs.  Howard,  looking  out 
of  the  window  to  see  what  had  called  forth 
such  a  delighted  exclamation  from  Charlie ; 
"  here  are  Maggie  and  Bessie  with  their  nurse. 
Coming  to  see  why  you  have  not  been  to 
school,  I  suppose,  Gracie." 

"  I  don't  want  to  see  them,  and  I  won't, 
now !  "  said  Gracie,  pettishly,  flouncing  herself 
around.  "  I  know  they've  come  to  let  me  see 
how  glad  they  are  about  to-morrow." 

"  Gracie  !  "  said  her  father,  sternly ;  "  I  will 
have  no  more  of  this."  Then  more  gently,  he 
added,  "  I  do  not  know  you,  my  daughter,  in 
such  a  mood  as  this.  You  are  not  only  de- 
stroying your  own  comfort  and  that  of  every 
one  about  you,  but  you  are  allowing  your  dis- 
appointed vanity  to  make  you  unjust  and  un- 
kind to  your  little  friends.  I  wish  you  to  see 
Maggie  and  Bessie,  and  to  receive  them  as 
kindly  and  politely  as  you  would  have  done  a 


316  Bessie  at  School. 

few  days  since,  before  this  wicked  jealousy 
took  possession  of  you." 

Gracie  was  startled,  for  she  was  not  accus- 
tomed to  hear  her  father  speak  in  this  way ; 
indeed,  she  did  not  often  deserve  it,  and  she 
was  still  crying  when  Maggie  and  Bessie  came 
in. 

"  Poor  Gracie !  "  said  Bessie,  as  soon  as  she 
and  her  sister  had  spoken  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Howard ;  "  we  were  'fraid  you  were  sick  when 
you  didn't  come  to  school,  so  we  asked  mamma 
to  let  us  come  and  see  you,  for  we  have  some 
very  good  news  for  you." 

"  What  ?  "  said  Gracie,  looking  and  speak- 
ing as  if  no  news  would  ever  be  good  again  to 
her. 

"  Your  composition  is  found,"  said  Maggie. 

"Where  is  it?  "asked  Gracie,  starting  to 
her  feet. 

"  I  s'pose  Mr.  Ashton  has  it  now,"  answered 
Maggie.  "  I  gave  it  to  Miss  Ashton  when  I 
found  you  were  not  at  school,  'cause  they  all 
Had  to  be  handed  to  her  uncle  this  afternoon  ; 


The  Award.  317 

and  I  thought  that  was  what  you  would  want 
me  tc  do." 

Gracie  did  not  need  to  meet  her  father's  or 
mother's  accusing  eye  to  feel  how  causeless 
her  unjust  suspicions  had  been.  Delight  at  the 
recovery  of  the  lost  paper  was  almost  overcome 
by  self-reproach  and  shame ;  and  her  head  sank, 
while  a  choking  feeling  in  her  throat  kept  her 
from  speaking  her  thoughts. 

"  Where  was  it  found,  dear  child  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Howard ;  and  Maggie  once  more  repeated 
the  story. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  sorry,  so  sorry !  "  said  Gracie, 
throwing  an  arm  about  the  neck  of  each  one 
of  her  little  schoolmates. 

"  So  sorry  for  what  ?  'cause  your  compo- 
sition is  found?"  asked  the  wondering  Bes- 
sie. 

"  No ;  because  I  was  so  naughty  and  ugly 
and  hateful,  and  said  such  mean  things  to 
you  arid  about  you,"  said  Gracie,  more  repen- 
tant than  she  could  find  words  to  tell. 

"  Oh !  never  mind  now,"  said  Maggie,  with 


318  Bessie  at  School. 

sweet  forgivingness.  "  You  wouldn't  have  said 
them  if  you  hadn't  been  so  disappointed." 

"  And,  Grade,"  said  Bessie,  "  we  couldn't 
help  feeling  a  little  glad,  though  we  were  sorry 
for  you.  I  heard  papa  tell  mamma  it  was  only 
human  nature,  and  I  s'pose  it's  to  be  'spected 
you'd  have  a  little  human  nature  too." 

"  What  is  human  nature,  Bessie  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Howard. 

Bessie  stood  thoughtful  a  moment,  and  then 
answered,  — 

"  I'm  not  very  sure,  sir ;  but  I  think  it  means 
temper  and  selfishness  and  other  naughty 
things  that  Jesus  don't  like."  * 

Mr.  Howard  smiled. 

"  Isn't  that  right,  sir  ?  "  asked  Bessie,  rather 
anxiously. 

"  Just  about  right,  dear  child,"  answered  the 
gentleman.  "  Human  nature  is  pretty  much 
mad'j  up  of  such  things." 

"  But  then  Jesus  will  help  us  with  it,  it  we 
*  Afcct 


The  Award. 

go  to  Him,"  said  the  child,  softly,  to  herself, 
thinking  of  the  battle  she  had  fought  with  her 
own  sinful  nature,  and  the  victory  she  had 
won  through  the  aid  of  the  Captain  she  had 
chosen. 

The  good  news  about  her  composition  did 
much  toward  helping  on  Grade's  recovery ; 
and  before  Maggie  and  Bessie  went  away,  she 
was  quite  herself  once  more,  and  talking 
cheerily  to  them  about  to-morrow's  expected 
events. 

Mrs.  Ashton's  school-rooms  were  a  pretty 
sight  the  next  morning,  for  scarcely  a  girl  in 
either  class  but  had  brought  some  flowers  as  a 
gift  to  her  teacher,  and  they  were  all  set  forth 
to  deck  the  rooms.  The  girls  were  all  in 
white,  the  elder  ones  with  pink  ribbons,  the 
little  children  with  blue  to  mark  their  classes  ; 
though  there  was  not  much  need  of  this,  for 
the  difference  in  size  would  have  done  that 
readily  enough.  But  it  was  a  fancy  of  some 
of  the  girls,  and  as  it  put  them  all  in  a  sort  of 
uniform,  and  made  the  rooms  look  gay,  it  was 


320  Bessie  at  School. 

just  as  well.  But  the  bright  young  faces  full 
of  pleasure  and  good-humor  were  the  greatest 
Attraction  there,  and  so  thought  Miss  Ashton 
as  one  after  another  appeared. 

The  girls  all  came  about  two  o'clock,  though 
their  friends  were  not  expected  till  half  an 
hour  later. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  a  lovelier  day  ? "  said 
Kate  Maynard,  coming  in  with  her  hands  full 
of  lilies  of  the  valley,  the  sight  of  which  called 
forth  many  an  admiring  "  oh !  "  and  "  ah !  " 
from  the  rest. 

"  Lovely  !  "  said  Julia  Grafton :  "  it  is  a 
real  genuine  poet  May-day.  No  make-believe 
spring  about  this." 

"  Oh ! "  said  Kate,  "  we  ought  to  have 
chosen  a  May  queen,  and  crowned  her.  Why 
did  we  not  think  of  it  before  ?  Well,  it  is  not 
too  late  now:  let  us  do  it,  and  I  will  make 
a  crown  of  these  lilies." 

The  proposal  met  with  general  approval. 

"  Whom  shall  we  choose  ? "  said  Fanny 
Leroy 


The  Award.  321 

•'•  One  of  the  little  ones,  of  course,"  said 
Kate,  looking  round  upon  the  pleased  group 
of  the  smaller  children  who  gathered  about  hei 
to  watch  the  skilful  fingers  which  were  already 
at  work  upon  the  wreath  of  lilies. 

Belle  clapped  her  hands. 

"  Maggie,  Maggie !  let's  have  Maggie  !  "  she 
said.  "  She's  the  best  deserving  for  being  so 
good  about  Gracie's  composition." 

"  Yes,  Maggie,"  said  Gracie,  who,  feeling 
sure  that  she  would  herself  carry  off  what  she 
considered  the  greatest  honor  of  the  day,  was 
glad  to  have  her  little  friend  obtain  a  lower 
one.  "  Let  her  be  May  queen." 

The  other  children  readily  agreed,  for  Mag- 
gie's sweet-tempered  and  obliging  ways  had 
made  her  a  favorite  with  all  the  school.  She 
was  not  a  little  pleased ;  but  when  Kate  had 
completed  the  wreath,  her  bashfulness  took 
alarm  at  the  idea  of  wearing  it  before  all  the 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  so  exciting  notice 
she  might  otherwise  escape.  It  required  a 
good  deal  of  coaxing  from  all,  and  some  pre- 

21 


Bessie  at  School. 


tence  of  hurt  feeling  on  Kate's  part,  before  she 
could  be  induced  to  put  it  on  ;  but  after  a  time 
she  forgot  the  honors  that  had  been  forced 
upon  her  in  the  other  claims  upon  her  atten- 
tion. 

Onl)  once  was  she  a  little  disturbed  aft* 
they  were  all  in  their  places,  and  their  friends 
had  arrived.  This  was  when  Bessie,  seeing 
her  mother's  eyes  fixed  with  some  surprise 
upon  Maggie,  thought  herself  called  upon  fir 
an  explanation.  Placing  a  hand  upon  either 
side  of  her  mouth,  and  speaking  between  them, 
she  said,  in  a  loud  whisper  which  reached  the 
ears  of  every  one  in  both  rooms,  as  well  as  the 
one  for  whom  it  was  intended,  — 

"She's  May  queen,  mamma.  The  girls 
made  her  it.  Don't  she  look  lovely  ?  " 

A  smile  passed  around  the  room,  and  dovrn 
went  her  majesty's  head  in  a  style  very  unbe- 
fitting one  which  wore  a  crown. 

But  now  all  were  ready,  and  the  examiria 
tion  began.  There  is  no  need  to  say  much 
about  that,  save  that  it  was  not  long,  and.  afl 


The  Award.  323 

Mr.  Ashton  said,  did  credit  to  both  teachers 
and  scholars.  Next,  Mr.  Ashton  made  a 
speech,  which  the  children  liked  all  tl  e  better 
because  it,  too,  was  short ;  and  then  came  the 
grand  business  of  the  day,  the  distribution  of 
the  prizes. 

In  the  first  class,  that  for  composition  was 
bestowed  upon  Kate  Maynard ;  that  for  perfect 
lessons,  upon  Julia  Grafton. 

"  Now  for  our  little  friends  here,"  said  Mr. 
Ashton,  turning  to  the  younger  children. 
"  The  greatest  number  of  perfect  lessons  has 
been  recited  by  Miss  Gracie  Howard.  She 
stands  four  ahead  of  any  other  in  her  class ; 
therefore  she  is  justly  entitled  to  the  prize ;  " 
and  he  held  towards  Gracie,  a  box  containing 
a  prettily  bound  set  of  those  little  library  vol- 
umes so  dear  to  the  eyes  and  hearts  of  children. 

She  rose  and  came  forward  to  receive  it  with 
a  self-satisfied  air,  which  said  as  plainly  as 
could  be  without  words,  "  Only  look  at  me. 
Am  I  not  a  wonderful  child?  Do  you  not 
envy  my  father  and  mother  ?  " 


324  Bessie  at  School. 

But  in  spite  of  their  gratification  at  her  suc- 
cess, her  father  and  mother  did  not  feel  that 
they  were  to  be  envied  just  then.  It  was  all 
spoiled  by  the  little  toss  of  the  head,  the  look 
which  swept  the  room  seeking  for  admiration, 
and  the  conceited  air  which  were  the  outward 
signs  of  Gracie's  intense  vanity;  and  her 
mother  thought  she  would  far  rather  see  her 
as  shy  and  shrinking  us  Maggie  Bradford. 

Gracie  courtesied  vhen  Mr.  Ashton  placed 
the  books  in  her  hand  ;  and  then  stood  still 
as  if  waiting  —  for  what  ?  So  confident  did 
she  feel  that  the  gentleman  would,  the  next 
moment,  call  her  name  again,  and  bestow  upon 
her  the  yet  more  coveted  composition  prize,  that 
beautiful  little  rosewood  writing-desk,  that  it 
did  not  seem  worth  while  to  go  back  to  her 
seat ;  and  she  actually  remained  waiting  for 
it,  till  recalled  to  herself  by  Miss  Ashton's 
"  Gracie !  "  and  the  motion  of  her  teacher's 
hand  directing  her  to  take  her  place. 

"  With  regard  to  the  compositions  written 
by  this  younger  class,"  continued  Mr.  Ashton, 


The  Award.  323 

"  I  must  say  that  they  are  all  very  well  done, 
remarkably  so  for  such  little  girls,  and  sho\v 
great  pains  taken  both  by  the  teacher  and  the 
taught.  Three  of  them  are  so  nearly  equal  in 
merit,  that  I  found  some  difficulty  in  judging 
between  them." 

Three !   Maggie's  must  be   one ;  Gracie's, 

• 

another  ;  but  whose  could  the  third  be  ?  The 
children  looked  from  one  to  another  in  sur- 
prise. 

"  The  one  called  *  The  Angel's  Wander- 
ings,' "  said  Mr.  Ashton,  "  contains  a  great 
deal  of  poetry  and  originality  ;  "  —  some  of 
the  little  ones  wondered  what  that  long  word 
meant,  —  and  the  royal  eyes  peeped  up  from 
under  the  royal  eyelashes,  half-shyly,  half-de- 
lighted ; —  oh!  was  it  really  coming  to  her? 
—  "  but  the  other  two  of  which  I  have  spoken, 
excel  it  in  some  respects.  These  are  '  Christ- 
mas Holydays,'  and  «  A  Sunday  Walk  ; '  and 
(his  last,  written  by  Miss  Nellie  Ransom,  I 
have  decided  on  the  whole  to  be  the  most 
worthy  of  the  prize.  The  neatness  and  care 


326  Bessie  at  School. 

with  which  this  paper  has  been  copied  and 
presented  have  gone  some  way  in  fixing  a 
choice  which  was  somewhat  difficult.  Miss 
Nellie  Ransom,  my  dear." 

Nellie  Ransom !  studious,  painstaking,  but 
not  remarkably  clever  Nellie,  whom  not  one 
in  the  school  had  ever  thought  of  as  the 
winner  of  the  prize.  Even  Miss  Ashton  was 
rather  surprised,  though  she  knew  better  what 
Nellie  could  do  than  any  of  her  schoolmates 
did ;  but  no  one  was  more  astonished  than 
the  modest  little  girl  herself. 

Mr.  Ashton  repeated  her  name  more  than 
once,  while  she  sat  still  in  mute  amazement ; 
and,  even  then,  she  had  to  be  urged  forward 
by  the  little  girls  on  either  side  of  her. 

"  Don't  you  hear,  Nellie  ?  Go,  Nellie.  The 
prize  is  for  you  ;  go  take  it,  Nellie,"  was  whis- 
pered around  her  before  she  could  collect  her- 
self sufficiently  to  go  up  and  receive  the  desk 
from  Mr.  Ashton' s  hands. 

To  describe  Grade's  astonishment  and 
indignation  would  be  quite  impossible.  The 


1'he  Award.  327 

pretty  reward  she  had  already  won  had  110 
longer  any  charm  in  her  eyes,  since  that  she 
had  regarded  as  her  own  was  lost  to  her. 
And  after  all  her  boasting!  Tears  of  mor- 
tification and  disappointment  welled  up  to  her 
eyes,  and  would  not  be  kept  back ;  and  an 
angry  sob,  and  a  murmur  of  "  It's  not  fair ; 
mine  was  the  best !  "  broke  from  her. 

"  Now,"  said  Mr.  Ashton,  "  we  are  to  bestow 
what  I  consider  the  first  prize  of  the  day. 
You  all  know  what  that  is  ;  this  paper,  which 
will  give  to  her  who  wins  it  by  the  choice  of 
her  schoolmates,  the  power  of  doing  good 
to  some  crippled  child.  This  choice,  1 
trust,  will  be  made  fairly  and  honestly,  with- 
out partiality.  I  want  it  given  to  the  young 
lady  whom  you  all  feel  most  truly  deserves  it, 
though  she  may  not  perhaps  be  the  one  for 
whom  you  care  most.  All  you  little  ones 
understand  me,  do  you  not  ?  Now,  will  each 
one  write  upon  a  slip  of  paper  the  name  of  the 
girl  to  whom  her  vote  is  given,  and  we  wilj 
see  who  has  the  greatest  number." 


328  Bessie  at  School. 

Twenty  heads  were  presently  bent  over  aa 
many  slips  of  paper ;  but  directly  Bessie  rose 
to  her  feet,  and  stood  looking  at  Miss  Ashton 
as  if  she  wished  permission  to  speak. 

"Well,  Bessie,  what  is  it  ? "  asked  the 
young  lady,  wondering  what  was  coming  now, 
as  she  saw  the  grave,  earnest  face  of  the  little 
girl. 

"  Miss  Ashton,"  said  Bessie,  "  I  really  do 
think  my  Maggie  is  the  best,  but  I'm  'fraid  1 
do  feel  partialltied  to  her.  I  couldn't  help  it, 
you  know.  Does  it  make  any  difference  about 
my  voting  for  her  ?  " 

Miss  Ashton  smiled,  and  looked  at  her 
uncle,  who  smiled  also,  and  answered  for  her. 

"  None  at  all,  little  one.  If  you  really  think 
your  Maggie  deserves  the  prize,  vote  for  her. 
by  all  means.  I'll  answer  for  it  that  your 
love  for  her  makes  her  none  the  less  worthy." 

"  Thank  you,  sir,"  answered  Bessie,  de- 
murely ;  and  she  sat  down  again,  and,  with 
great  satisfaction,  wrote  Maggie's  name  in  the 
largest  possible  letters 


The  Award.  329 

The  business  of  writing  the  names  did  not 
take  long,  for  every  girl  had  long  since  made 
up  her  mind  for  whom  she  should  vote.  Belle 
Powers  was  sent  to  collect  the  slips  of  paper, 
and  brought  them  to  Mr.  Ashton,  who,  with 
his  niece,  looked  over  them. 

"  There  does  not  seem  to  be  much  differ- 
ence of  opinion,"  he  said,  smiling  again.  "  One 
for  Maggie  Bradford,  four  for  Belle  Powers, 
and  fifteen  for  Bessie  Bradford.  My  little  girl, 
the  hospital  bed  is  yours,  to  give  to  whom  you 
will.  If  you  know  of  any  child  to  whom  it  will 
be  a  help  and  comfort,  you  have  also  the  sat- 
isfaction of  knowing  that  you  have  gained  it 
for  him  by  your  own  good  conduct,  and  the 
love  and  approbation  of  your  schoolmates." 

If  Nellie  had  been  surprised,  Bessie  was 
certainly  no  less  so.  She  could  scarcely  be- 
lieve her  own  ears.  The  hospital  bed  her  own, 
to  give  to  lame  Jemmy !  It  seemed  too  good 
to  be  true.  She  had  had  a  strong  hope  that 
dear  little  Belle  would  gain  it ;  and  Belle,  as 
you  know,  had  promised  that  Jemmy  should 


330  Bessie  at  School. 

have  it,  if  it  fell  to  her ;  but  that  she,  Bessie, 
should  be  the  chosen  one,  and  that  by  fifteen 
votes !  —  she  could  not  understand  it. 

With  a  flush  upon  her  cheek,  but  still  with 
a  quiet,  simple  dignity  very  different  from 
Gracie's  air  of  supreme  self-satisfaction,  she 
rose  and  went  forward  to  Mr.  Ashton. 

"  My  dear  little  girl,"  said  the  gentleman, 
looking  down  kindly  upon  her,  "  from  what  I 
have  heard  I  believe  that  the  choice  of  your 
schoolmates  has  been  justly  made.  You  have 
looked  only  to  the  honor  of  God,  and  tried 
most  earnestly  to  '  do  the  thing  that  is  right ; ' 
and  God  has  said  '  them  that  honor  me,  I  will 
honor.'  May  He  bless  you,  and  keep  you 
always  in  His  own  way." 

Bessie  took  the  folded  paper  he  held  out  to 
her,  and  answered,  "  Thank  you  very  much, 
sir,  and  lame  Jemmy  will  thank  you  very 
much  too.  He  is  a  very  good,  patient  boy." 

"  I  dare  say,"  replied  Mr.  Ashton  ;  "  but  he 
has  to  thank  you,  not  me." 

Bessie  gave  him  another  grateful   glance, 


The  Award.  331 

and  turned  to  go  back  to  her  seat ;  but  as  she 
did  so  she  caught  Kate  Maynard's  roguish 
eyes  fixed  upon  her,  their  mischief  softened 
by  an  expression  of  tender  pride  and  con- 
gratulation, which  told  her  that  the  young 
lady  was  nearly  as  well  pleased  as  herself. 

"  Oh,  Katie  !  "  she  exclaimed,  standing 
where  she  was,  and  forgetting  for  the  moment 
that  every  one  in  the  room  was  watching  her; 
then  turning  towards  her  mother,  and  meeting 
her  dear  look  of  loving  sympathy,  all  that  was 
iii  her  little  heart  proved  too  much  for  her, 
and  dropping  the  paper  she  ran  swiftly  across 
the  room,  and  buried  her  head  in  mamma's 
lap.  How  much  there  was  in  that  "  Oh, 
Katie !  "  perhaps  Kate  herself  only  knew ;  and 
although  she  joined  in  the  smile  which  passed 
around,  the  laughing  eyes  were  suddenly 
dimmed,  and  her  hand  went  up  to  dash  away 
one  or  two  very  suspicious-looking  drops. 

This  last  little  performance  on  Bessie's  part 
was  not  in  the  programme,  and  rather  out 
of  mle,  to  be  sure ;  but  as  the  exercises  of 


332  Bessie  at  School. 

the  day  were  now  over,  it  did  not  so  much 
matter. 

Mamma's  gentle  soothing  soon  calmed  hei 
over-excitement,  and  there  was  Maggie,  w"h 
her  arms  about  her  neck,  whispering,  "  Bv  •• 
sie,  I  don't  mind  a  bit  about  the  composition 
prize  now.  I'd  rather  than  any  thing  that 
you  would  have  this.  And  I'm  so  glad  for 
lame  Jemmy." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  it  was  so  good  of  the 
girls." 

"  No,  it  wasn't,"  said  Belle,  who  was  hold- 
ing fast  to  her  father's  hand,  and  jumping 
up  and  down  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight  at 
Bessie's  success ;  "  no,  it  wasn't.  They 
couldn't  help  it,  not  if  they  wrote  the  truf, 
and  Mrs.  Ashton  said  they  must.  And,  Bes- 
sie, do  you  know  the  reason  you  had  so  many 
votes,  was  'cause  all  the  big  young  ladies 
wrote  your  name ;  every  one  in  that  class. 
Miss  Ashton  just  told  papa  so.  It's  very 
nice  to  have  so  many  give  it  to  you,  Bessie : 
is  it  not  ?  " 


The  Award.  333 

Nice !  Bessie  thought  so  indeed  !  A  hap- 
pier child  could  not  have  been  found  than 
she  was,  as  she  sat  with  her  head  leaning 
upon  her  mother's  breast,  wearing  a  face  of 
such  perfect  content.  She  had  her  reward 
indeed,  not  only  a  heart  at  peace  with  God  and 
man,  but  also  the  longed-for  gift  for  the  crip 
pled  boy.  Had  she  given  way  in  that  moment 
of  temptation,  it  could  not  have  come  to  her 
fairly;  and  where,  oh!  where  would  have 
been  the  first  ? 

She  had  nothing  more  to  wish  for  now. 

Smiles,  kisses,  and  congratulations  were 
showered  upon  her,  every  one  seemed  to  be  so 
glad  for  her  ;  and  she  thought  it  quite  strange, 
but  very  pleasant,  that  so  many  people  who 
did  not  know  Jemmy  should  feel  such  an 
interest  in  his  good  fortune. 

And  there  was  Maggie,  dear,  unselfish  Mag- 
gie, full  of  eager  sympathy,  and  rejoicing  in 
her  joy. 

"  My  disappointment  is  quite  made  up  in 
this,  Bessie,"  she  said.  "  It  makes  so  many 


334  Bessie  at  School. 

more  people  happy  than  my  having  the  dcsfe 
would  have  done,  and  it  will  do  Jemmy  so 
much  good.  And  then  you  know  Nellie  does 
not  have  half  so  many  nice  things  as  we  do, 
so  it  is  better  for  her  to  have  it.  She  has  not 
done  being  surprised  yet :  it  was  such  a  very 
unexpected  blow  to  her  that  she  can  hardly 
believe  it ;  but  she  is  so  happy  about  it,  I 
couldn't  help  telling  her  I  was  glad  for  her." 

"  Little  honey-bee,  that  takes  all  the  sweet 
and  leaves  all  the  bitter  !  "  said  Colonel  Rush, 
as  he  drew  Maggie  fondly  towards  him.  "  But 
what  is  our  '  angel '  going  to  say  to  all  this  ? 
I  am  afraid  she  will  feel  that  the  (  subject ' 
has  not  met  with  proper  consideration." 

"  The  '  subject '  is  too  little  to  know  now," 
said  sunshiny  Maggie ;  "  and  when  she  is 
bigger  we  won't  tell  her  any  thing  about  it." 

"  Indeed  we  will,"  said  the  Colonel,  pushing 
back  Maggie's  curls  from  beneath  the  crown 
of  lilies.  "  I  shall  tell  her  the  whole  story." 

"  I  wouldn't,"  said  Maggie :  "  she  might 
have  feelings  about  it." 


The  Award.  335 

"  I  hope  she  will,  if  they  are  of  the  proper 
kind."  said  the  Colonel,  laughing ;  "  and  I 
should  not  be  surprised  if  she  had  some  opin- 
ions to  express  even  now." 

Maggie  wondered  what  he  meant ;  but  just 
then  some  of  the  children  spoke  to  her,  and 
she  forgot  his  words,  to  remember  them  an 
other  time. 

The  rest  of  the  afternoon  was  spent  in 
amusing  themselves  in  various  ways  ;  the  May 
Queen  being  throned  and  carried  in  state 
about  house  and  garden ;  but  she  proved 
restive  under  this,  and,  as  Kate  said,  "  set  a 
very  undignified  example  to  her  subjects,"  by 
escaping  from  their  hands,  and  insisting  on 
racing  and  jumping  upon  her  own  nimble 
little  feet.  None  who  saw  how  joyous  and 
merry  she  was,  how  free  from  every  selfish 
thought  and  envious  feeling,  would  have  im- 
agined that  there  had  been  a  time  when  she 
had  been  too  anxious  for  this  prize  which  had, 
at  last,  fallen  to  another ;  that  she  had  said 
and  felt  that  she  could  never  bear  the  disap- 


336  Bessie  at  School. 

pointment  of  losing  it.  A  contrast  she  was 
to  Gracie,  certainly,  who  could  enjoy  none  of 
the  pleasures  offered  to  her  because  she  had 
not  gained  that  on  which  she  had  set  her 
heart,  looking,  not  for  God's  approval,  but  for 
that  of  man,  and  her  own  honor  and  glory. 


XV. 


A    LETTER. 

N  Saturday,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bradford 
drove  out  to  Riverside,  taking  Mag 
gie  and  Bessie  with  them. 

So  eager  were  the  children  to  carry  the 
good  news  to  Jemmy  Bent  and  his  mother, 
that  their  parents  thought  it  as  well  to  go  on 
to  the  cottage  by  the  creek  at  once  ;  knowing 
that  the  little  girls  could  take  small  thought 
or  enjoyment  in  any  thing  else  till  this  busi- 
ness was  settled  ;  therefore  James  was  told  to 
drive  there  first,  instead  of  turning  in  at 
Grandpapa  Duncan's  gate. 

The  cottage  looked  rather  neater  and  more 
comfortable  than  it  did  two  years  ago,  when 
Maggie  and  Bessie  first  went  there  to  see 
lame  Jemmy.  Mary  was  older  and  stronger 

and  could  do  more  work,  and  it  was  her  pride 
22 


Bessie  at  School. 


to  keep  things  as  tidy  as,  possible  around  her 
brother.  He  looked  quite  at  his  ease,  sitting 
in  his  wheeled  chair,  which  stood  on  the  grass 
plat  in  front  of  the  little  house  ;  and  as  the 
carriage  stopped  at  the  gate,  his  pale  face 
lighted  up  with  surprise  and  pleasure  when  he 
saw  whom  it  contained.  A  visit  from  any  of 
Mr.  Bradford's  or  Mr.  Duncan's  family  was  8 
treat  to  Jemmy  in  more  ways  than  one. 

Mrs.  Bent  was  at  home,  and  asked  the  vis- 
itors to  step  in  ;  but  Mrs.  Bradford  said  they 
would  rather  stay  outside  for  the  few  moments 
they  could  remain. 

After  asking  how  Jemmy  was  feeling,  and 
how  he  enjoyed  the  lovely  weather,  Mr.  Brad- 
ford told  for  what  purpose  they  had  come  ;  to 
bring  to  Jemmy  the  ticket  of  admission  to  the 
hospital,  with  all  its  comforts,  and  the  possi- 
bility, even  probability,  of  his  being  so  far 
cured  as  to  enable  him  to  walk  with  crutches 
or  a  cane. 

Maggie  had  imagined  that  Mrs.  Bent  and 
her  children  would  be  overwhelmed  with  de- 


A  Letter.  339 

light  and  gratitude ;  and  had  that  morning 
pleased  herself  and  Bessie  by  describing  the 
scene  which  she  supposed  would  take  place. 

"  Their  emotions  will  be  quite  too  much  for 
them,  Bessie,"  she  had  said  ;  "  at  least  thej 
ought  to  be,  and  I  s'pose  they  will,  for  that's 
always  the  way  in  things  you  read  about. 
They'll  be  so  full  of  surprise  and  joy  and 
gratitude  they  won't  know  what  to  do  with 
themselves." 

But  to  the  astonishment  and  indignation 
of  both  children,  especially  of  Maggie,  Mrs. 
Bent's  "  emotions  "  took  quite  a  different  turn 
from  what  they  had  expected.  She  burst  into 
tears,  and  wrung  her  hands,  exclaiming, 
"  Oh !  sir,  I  never  could,  no,  never  could  ! 
To  send  my  poor  boy  away  from  me  !  Oh, 
no,  sir !  no,  indeed  !  And  to  one  of  them  hos- 
pitals too  !  I'd  never  do  it,  —  not  if  I  work 
my  fingers  to  the  bone." 

And  Mary,  seeing  her  mother  so  excited, 
began  to  cry  too  at  the  thought  of  parting 
with  the  brother  who  had  been  such  a  care 


34°  Bessie  a  I  School. 

to  her  for  so  long ;  while  poor  Jemmy,  who 
had  felt  grateful  and  pleased  beyond  measure 
at  the  prospect  of  receiving  such  care  and 
help  as  would  make  him  less  helplessly  crip- 
pled than  he  was  now,  gazed  at  his  mother  in 
dismay  ;  and  our  little  girls  stood  looking  on, 
thoroughly  crestfallen  and  disappointed  at  this 
reception  of  their  ofler. 

"  Mrs.  Bent,"  said  Mrs.  Bradford,  kindly, 
u  I  know  it  seems  hard  for  you  to  part  from 
your  helpless  boy,  even  for  a  time  ;  but  surely 
you  will  not  refuse  to  let  him  go  when  you 
think  of  the  benefit  it  will  be  to  him.  Could 
you  not  bear  this  lesser  sorrow  for  the  sake  of 
seeing  Jemmy  able  to  move  about  by  him- 
self ?  You  can  see  him  now  and  then ;  I  will 
myself  take  care  that  you  have  the  means 
to  reach  him ;  and  in  a  year  or  so,  perhaps 
less,  he  may  come  back  to  you,  able  to  do 
something  for  himself,  it  may  be  even  to  be 
a  help  to  you.  I  am  sure  he  has  the  will  for 
that,  if  he  had  but  the  way  and  the  strength. 
Is  it  not  so,  Jemmy  ?  " 


A  Letter.  341 

Jemmy  smiled,  and  put  out  his  poor  thin 
hand  gratefully  to  the  lady ;  then  broke 
forth,  — 

"  Oh !  mother,  let  me  go,  do  let  me  go !  Oh  ! 
if  you  knew  what  it  was  to  lie  here  !  I  do  try 
to  be  patient,  and  I'm  willing  to  stay  so  if  the 
Lord  thinks  it  best ;  but  sure  He's  sent  us 
this  hope,  and  you  won't  throw  it  away.  Say 
you  won't,  mother,  and  let  me  try  ;  and,  oh  ! 
do  thank  the  dear  lady  and  gentleman  and 
the  little  ladies  !  " 

"  Let  me  speak  to  you  a  moment,  Mrs. 
Bent,"  said  Mr.  Bradford ;  and  calling  her 
aside,  he  showed  her  all  the  advantage  the  place 
would  be  to  Jemmy,  and  soon  talked  her  into 
a  more  reasonable  and  gentle  mood,  while 
Mrs.  Bradford  spoke  cheerfully  to  Jemmy  and 
his  sister  of  all  the  comforts  and  pleasures 
which  would  be  furnished  for  him  in  this 
refuge  for  such  poor  crippled  children  as  he. 

No  fear  about  Jemmy.  He  was  eager  enough 
about  it  to  satisfy  the  children,  and  Mary 
too  could  not  now  be  sufficiently  grateful 


342  Bessie  at  School. 

for  the    care   and    kindness   offered  to    her 
brother. 

"  You'll  please  to  excuse  me,  ma'am,"  said 
Mrs.  Bent,  coming  back  ;  "  and  I  see  now  it's 
kindness  itself  in  the  dear  little  ladies  that 
have  been  such  good  friends  to  my  boy  from 
the  first,  and  a  great  blessing  for  him  ;  but  at 
the  first,  it  seemed  cruel  like  to  send  him  from 
me,  and  as  if  I  was  willing  to  be  rid  of  him." 

So  it  was  talked  of  a  little  more,  and  the 
arrangements  made  for  moving  Jemmy  to  the 
hospital  in  a  few  days  when  the  place  would 
be  vacant  and  ready  for  him.  By  the  time 
this  was  done,  Mrs.  Bent  could  look  at  the 
thing  in  its  proper  light,  and  was  profuse 
enough  of  thanks  and  blessings.  But  the  first 
impression  was  not  readily  done  away  with ; 
and  when  they  left,  Bessie  took  her  seat  in 
the  carriage  with  a  very  sober  face ;  and  Mag 
gie,  who  was  highly  disgusted  w?tl:  Mrc.  Bent, 
broke  forth  with  some  opinions  by  LO  means 
complimentary  to  that  good  womn  u 

"Well,"  said  Grandpapa  Duncan,  ^  en  hf 


A  Letter.  343 

had  heard  all  about  the  prizes,  arid  the  visit  to 
Jem  my. "  I  am  sure  our  lame  boy  will  say  that 
your  going  to  school  has  been  a  great  blessing 
to  him,  since  it  has  brought  this  about." 

"  Why,  yes,"  said  Maggie,  thoughtfully,  "  so 
it  has.  I'm  sure  I'd  never  have  thought  our 
going  to  school  could  be  of  use  to  Jemmy. 
Doesn't  it  seem  queer,  grandpapa?  But  it 
was  all  Bessie.  I'd  never  have  earned  that 
prize." 

"  Yes,  she  would,  grandpapa,"  said  Bessie. 
"  Miss  Kate  told  me  so  yesterday.  She  said 
if  they  had  not  voted  for  me,  all  the  large  class 
would  have  voted  for  Maggie,  'cause  they 
thought  she  was  so  true  and  good  about  Gra- 
de's composition  ;  so  I  told  Maggie  this  morn- 
ing it  was  just  as  much  her  present  to  Jemmy 
as  mine.  And  we  always  like  to  be  halves  in 
things,  grandpapa.  And  I  told  Miss  Kate, 
Maggie  deserved  it  more  than  me,  'cause  I  was 
/ery  tempted  about  the  composition,  and  she 
•fas  not  oiie  bit." 

'*  Sut  she  knew  better  than  that,  and  I'm 


344  Bessie  at  School. 

glad  of  it,"  said  Maggie,  with  a  decided  nod  of 
her  curly  head. 

"  She  didn't  say  so,"  replied  her  sister : 
"  she  only  said,  '  Oh  Bessie ! '  and  just  kissed 
me." 

"There's  a  letter  and  a  large  parcel  for 
Miss  Maggie  on  the  library-table,"  said  Pat- 
rick,  when  they  reached  home  that  afternoon. 

"  A  letter  for  me  ?  Oh,  lovely !  "  said  Mag- 
gie ;  and  away  she  ran  with  Bessie  after  her, 
both  eager  to  see  what  the  parcel  contained, 
and  whom  the  letter  was  from. 

The  parcel  was  a  large  one,  carefully 
wrapped  up,  and  the  letter  lay  upon  it. 

"  Why !  that's  Uncle  Horace's  monogram ! 
What  can  he  be  writing  to  me  about  when  he 
saw  me  yesterday,  and  will  see  me  again  to- 
morrow ?  I  just  expect  this  is  another  of  his 
lovely  surprises,  the  dear,  precious  lamb ! " 
said  Maggie,  who,  provided  an  epithet  came 
handy,  was  not  always  particular  as  to  how  it 
fitted.  "  Let's  open  the  parcel  first." 

No  sooner  said  than  done ;  and  when  opened, 


A  Letter.  345 

it  was  found  to  contain  a  rosewood  writing- 
desk,  the  very  counterpart  of  the  one  given 
yesterday  by  Mr.  Ashton  to  Nellie  Kansom. 
The  children  at  first  took  it  to  be  the  very 
same. 

"  Why,  it's  Nellie's  prize ! "  exclaimed 
Maggie. 

"  Was  there  a  mistake  about  it,  and  did 
they  like  your  composition  the  best  after  all, 
and  send  it  to  you,  I  wonder  ? "  said  Bessie. 

"  If  they  did,  I  wouldn't  take  it  now,"  said 
Maggie  :  "  it  would  be  too  mean  to  Nellie.  But 
let's  see  what  Uncle  Horace  says." 

The  letter  was  quickly  unsealed,  and  there 
appeared  a  long  line  of  verses.  Maggie  was 
in  too  much  of  a  hurry  to  try  and  make  out 
for  herself  Colonel  Rush's  rather  illegible 
handwriting,  and  she  rushed  with  it  to  her 
father. 

"  Papa,  papa !  please  read  it  for  us.  May 
Bessie's  name  is  at  the  end  of  all  this  lot  of 
po'try,  but  we  know  very  well  her  papa  made 
it  up ;  and  we  are  in  such  a  hurry  to  know 


346  Bessie  at  School. 

about  the  desk.     Please  read  it  for  us  right 
away." 

Papa  took  the  letter,  and  read  aloud  the 
following  verses :  — 


'•'  My  dear  cousin  Maggie,  —  for  '  cousin '  you  are, 
Since  your  '  uncle '  and  '  aunt '  my  papa  and  mamma,  — 
You  will  be  much  surprised  when  this  letter  you  see, 
To  find  that  it  comes  from  a  '  subject '  like  me. 

"But  papa  and  mamma  —  I  have  heard  'Love  is  blind' — 
Declare  I've  a  very  remarkable  mind ; 
That  I'm  '  lovely  '  and  '  perfect,'  I'm  '  brilliant '  and  '  wise, 
That  I'm  really  a  '  wonderful  child  of  her  size.' 

"  Mamma  sits  by  my  cradle,  and  murmurs  these  things 
In  the  pauses  of  all  the  sweet  songs  that  she  sings ; 
While  into  the  pillow  I  nestle  my  head, 
And  smile  with  approval  at  all  that  is  said. 

'  Then  she  says  '  sister-angels  are  whispering  to  me.' 
Who  besides  her  sweet  self?  for  papa  it  can't  be , 
No  '  angel '  is  he.    I  can't  quite  make  him  out. 
Of  mamma  and  myself,  you'll  perceive,  I've  no  doubt. 

'  Your  prize  composition,  /  think  very  fine, 
And  I'm  a  good  judge,  you'll  allow,  Maggie  mine : 
Your  '  subject '  well  chosen ;  ideas  well  expressed  , 
To  my  baby-notions  'tis  clearly  the  best. 


A  Letter.  347 

'  But  on  one  point,  dear  Maggie,  you  make  a  mistake ; 
Your  faith  in  my  father  I  rudely  must  shake. 
You  call  this  same  soldier,  the  '  bravest  of  braves,' 
Now  listen,  and  hear  how  this  Colonel  behaves. 


*  Whene'er  I  determine  to  take  a  good  cry,  — 
A  most  innocent  treat  when  no  strangers  are  nigh,— 
Why !  what  does  this  hero  of  so  many  fields, 
But  snatch  up  his  cane,  and  then  take  to  his  heela. 

" '  What  a  coward ! '  you'll  say.     Yes,  indeed,  'tis  moit 

strange ; 

For  whene'er  I  do  cry,  it  is  but  for  a  change ; 
One  cannot  be  cooing  and  smiling  all  day, 
Sometimes  I  have  tried  that,  but  find  it  don't  pay. 

"  But  one  thing,  dear  Maggie,  you've  made  very  clear, 
That  I  am  '  an  angel '  doth  plainly  appear ; 
Then  mamma  says  the  same,  and  I  know  you're  both 

true: 
I  believe  it  myself,  —  between  me  and  you. 

"  Excuse  my  bad  grammar,  I  must  make  the  rhyme, 
I'll  do  better  some  day,  if  you'll  but  give  me  time ; 
And  as  for  my  manners,  I'm  sure  that  I  mean 
Not  the  least  disrespect  to  our  little  May  Queen. 

"  Yes,  I  fully  believe  such  a  '  treasure'  as  I 
Must  have  flown  from  some  spot  very  near  to  the  sky ; 
And  I  know  gentle  spirits  do  whisper  to  me, 
And  teach  me  sweet  lessons  of  what  I  must  be. 


348  Bessie  at  School. 

"  They  tell  me  I  must  be  a  good  little  child, 
A  baby  obedient,  patient  and  mild ; 
They  tell  me  to  love  all  the  good  and  the  true, 
And  therefore,  dear  Maggie,  I  have  to  love  you 

"  And  Bessie,  the  darling !  she,  too,  has  some  claims 
For  her  own  precious  sake,  to  say  nothing  of  names 
My  own  sweet '  ersample '  she  says  she  will  be : 
They  tell  me  to  profit  by  what  I  may  see. 

But  now  let's  to  business.    I  think  you  approve 
Of  doing  kind  '  favors  '  for  those  whom  we  love ; 
And  if  they  deserve  it,  why,  so  much  the  better, 
For  here  is  the  gist  of  this  wonderful  letter. 

'  I  must  own,  my  dear  cousin,  I  thought  it  a  shame 
This  prize  for  fine  writing  fell  not  to  your  name. 
In  the  judge's  decision,  I  can't  quite  agree, 
So,  dear  little  maiden,  it  seemeth  to  me 

"  That  your  '  subject '  herself  should  do  what  she  can ; 
And  after  some  thought,  I  have  hit  on  this  plan  : 
To  send  you  this  prize  for  the  story  you  tell 
Of  the  '  angel '  who  loves  you  so  truly  and  well. 

"  But  remember,  my  darling,  you  always  will  find 
That  a  heart  that  is  generous,  truthful,  and  kind, 
Where  self  and  deceit  and  envyings  hard 
No  entrance  can  find,  is  its  own  best  reward 

"And  the  smile  of  the  Shepherd,  who  dwells  up  above, 
And  watches  His  lambs  with  the  tenderest  love, 
Will  always  be  ours  when  the  victory  we  win, 
By  the  help  of  His  grace  in  the  conflict  with  sin. 


A  Letter.  349 

"  And  now  this  long  letter  I'll  bring  to  a  close, 
The  thought  it  has  cost  me,  oh,  nobody  knows ! 
With  much  love  to  yourself,  and  to  Bessie  the  same, 
I'll  say  no  more,  Maggie,  but  just  sign  my  name. 

*'  Your  '  subject/  MAT  BESSIE  " 


Maggie  went  into  ecstasies  of  delight  over 
this  letter,  as  well  as  over  the  beautiful  gift 
which  accompanied  it ;  but  Bessie,  although 
she  shared  to  the  full  her  sister's  pleasure  in 
the  latter,  could  not  be  persuaded  to  say  she 
thought  the  verses  so  very  fine. 

"  Why,  what's  the  matter  with  it  ?  "  said 
Maggie.  "  I  think  it's  lovely." 

"  I  don't  think  it's  so  very  nice,"  answered 
Bessie,  gravely  regarding  the  letter  with  an 
air  of  comic  displeasure. 

"  Well,"  said  Maggie,  "  maybe  it's  not  a; 
very  po'try,  but  it  jingle-jangles  so  nicely.  I 
wish  you  would  like  it." 

"  I  do  like  what  it  says  about  you  and  May 
Bessie,"  said  Bessie  ;  "  but  it's  not  nice  about 
my  soldier  at  all.  He's  not  a  coward." 

"Oh!    that's  only  for  fun,"  said  Maggie, 


350  Bessie  at  School. 

"  You  know  that  it's  only  pretend  that  May 
Bessie  wrote  it.  The  Colonel  did  it  himself; 
and  he  always  does  run  away  when  the  baby 
cries." 

"  Yes,"  said  matter-of-fact  Bessie,  half  un- 
willing to  admit  even  so  much  against  her 
hero ;  "  but  that  does  not  make  him  a  coward. 
But,  Maggie  darling,  I  couldn't  speak  about 
how  glad  I  am  that  this  very  lovely  surprise 
has  come  to  you.  And  I  think  this  is  better 
than  if  you  had  the  real  prize  in  school." 

"  Oh,  yes  !  a  great  deal  better,"  said  Mag- 
gie. "  Mr.  Ashton  is  very  good  and  kind ; 
but  then  he  is  not  any  one  of  ours,  and  it's  a 
great  deal  more  pleasure  to  have  a  prize  from 
our  own  May  Bessie  than  from  him.  And 
besides,  Bessie,  I  don't  know  how  I  could 
have  walked  up,  and  taken  it  before  all  those 
people.  Sometimes,  I  thought  I  would  almost 
rather  not  have  the  prize  than  do  that." 

But  if  the  letter  was  not  altogether  to  Bes- 
sie's satisfaction,  the  desk  certainly  proved 
so ;  and  it  was  long  before  she  and  Maggie 


A  Letter.  351 

tired  of  examining  it  and  its  complete  fitting 
out.  The  first  use  Maggie  made  of  it,  was  to 
answer  May  'Bessie's  letter,  which  she  did  in 
rhyme,  rather  halting  rhyme  it  was  now  and 
then  to  be  sure  ;  but  she  and  Bessie  were  sat- 
isfied that  it  was  a  gem  of  poetry  ;  and  as  the 
baby  found  no  fault  with  it,  we  must  take  it 
for  granted  that  she  thought  so  also. 

It  was  delightful,  too,  to  see  how  pleased  all 
the  school-girls,  large  and  small,  were  to  hear 
of  Maggie's  good  fortune,  and  to  read  the  let- 
ter from  May  Bessie,  which  she  permitted 
them  all  to  see". 

"  Miss  Kate,"  said  Maggie,  looking  up  into 
the  laughing  eyes  which  were  no  longer  a 
terror  to  her,  "  it's  very  kind  of  you  to  be  so 
glad  for  me." 

"  Do  you  think  so  ?  "  said  Kate.  "  I  am 
truly  glad  for  you,  Maggie.  We  are  better 
friends  than  we  used  to  be,  are  we  not  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  said  Maggie  ;  "  partly  'cause 
I'm  not  so  shy  as  I  used  to  be,  and  partly 
'cause  you  have  improved  a  good  deal  in 


352  Bessie  at  School. 

doing  unto  others.  You  do  not  tease  half 
as  much  as  you  used  to,  Miss  Kate." 

"  Thank  you  for  the  compliment,"  said 
Kate,  laughing,  and  tossing  Maggie's  long 
curls  about  her  face  till  they  covered  it  as 
with  a  veil. 

"  Maybe  Miss  Kate  wanted  the  best  girl 
prize,  and  knew  she  would  not  have  any 
chance  if  she  teased  so  much,"  said  Belle. 

"  Much  chance  I'd  have  of  '  the  best  girl 
prize,'  as  you  call  it,"'  said  Kate.  "  No,  Belle  : 
I  never  set  myself  up  for  that." 

"  But  you  ought,  oughtn't  you  ?  "  said  Belle, 
with  solemn  gravity. 

"  Ought  what  ? "  asked  Kate.  "  To  be  the 
best  girl  in  the  school  ?  " 

"  No,"  answered  the  child  ;  "  but  to  try  to 
be." 

"  And  take  the  prize  from  your  Bessie ! " 
said  Kate,  pretending  to  be  shocked  at  the  idea 

"  No,"  said  Belle,  who  sometimes  presumed 
on  being  a  privileged  character,  and  said  things 
to  the  older  girls  which  none  of  the  other  little 


A  Letter.  353 

ones  would  have  dared  to  say.  "No,  Miss 
Kate,  I  don't  think  there's  goodness  enough 
in  you  for  that.  But  you  might  try  to  be  the 
best  that  you  could." 

"  What  would  be  the  good  when  there  was 
no  chance  of  the  prize  ?  "  asked  Kate,  much 
amused. 

"  To  please  Jesus,"  said  Belle.  "  Bessie's 
mamma  told  us  about  that  that  time  I  lived 
there  while  papa  was  away.  She  said  we 
must  only  try  to  do  the  thing  that  was  right, 
'cause  it  was  right,  no  matter  what  people 
thought  of  us ;  not  to  try  to  be  or  to  do  the 
best  so  as  to  be  rewarded." 

"Well  done,  little  Belle,"  said  Fanny 
Berry ;  "  how  nicely  you  have  remembered 
and  repeated  your  lesson  !  " 

"  But  I  didn't  always  remember  to  do  it," 
said  Belle ;  "  not  that  time  I  climbed  on  Hie 
wall.  I  made  believe  in  my  heart  I  was  not 
doing  any  thing  naughty  ;  but  myself  knew  I 
was,  and  God  knew  I  was  too ;  and  so  He 
gave  me  good  enough  for  me." 
28 


354  Bessie  at  School. 

The  girls  laughed. 

"  Bessie  always  keeps  the  truf  in  her 
heart,"  said  Belle,  looking  fondly  after  her 
little  friend  who  had  run  into  the  other  room 
to  tell  Miss  Ashton  about  Maggie's  gift ;  "  and 
I  think  that's  the  reason  she  always  keeps  it 
in  her  living." 

"  Yes,"  said  Julia  Grafton  ;  "  that  is  it." 

"  I  think  we've  all  improved  a  little  over 
these  prizes,"  said  Maggie. 

"  'Cept  only  Grade,"  said  Belle  ;  "  she's 
dis-improved  very  much.  She  is  not  half  so 
nice  as  she  used  to  be." 

"  But  we  won't  remember  the  faults  of 
others  now,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  who  just  then 
came  back  with  Bessie  to  congratulate  Maggie. 
"  I  am  glad  to  say  that  I  think  more  good 
than  harm  has  come  from  these  prizes,  though 
[  feared  at  first  it  might  be  the  contrary.  I 
think  with  Maggie  that  almost  all  have  im- 
proved, some  in  one  way,  some  in  another. 
Lessons  have  been  learned  by  us,  which  were 
not  learned  in  books ;  and  I  am  thankful 


A  Letter.  355 

that  little,  if  any,  jealousy,  unkindness,  or  hard 
feeling  has  arisen  among  you  ;  and  that  a  true 
generosity  and  willingness  for  the  success  of 
others  have  been  shown  in  more  than  one  in- 
stance. I  was  a  little  doubtful  of  the  plan 
when  my  uncle  first  proposed  it ;  but  it  has 
really  been  of  service  in  more  ways  than 
one." 

"  Mamma  said  it  would  do  us  no  harm  to 
try  for  those  things,  if  we  did  not  let  ourselves 
become  too  anxious,"  said  Maggie. 

"  No,"  said  Miss  Ashton,  "  not  so  long  as 
we  do  so  from  a  right  motive,  and  remember 
that  the  praise  of  God  is  more  to  be  desired 
than  the  praise  of  man:  He  has  said 
1  those  that  honor  Him,  He  will  honor ; ' 
and  I  think  we  have  proved  it  BO  here  in 
school." 

This  was  the  last  day  of  school  for  our 
Maggie  and  Bessie  ;  and  sorry  as  they  were  to 
leave  their  kind  teachers  and  pleasant  com- 
panions, they  were  delighted  at  the  thought  of 
all  the  pleasure  promised  to  them  this  coming 


356  Bessie  at  School. 

summer,  and  at  the  hope  of  having  mamma 
give  them  lessons  again  in  the  fall. 

They  were  first  to  spend  a  few  days  at 
Riverside,  going  there  with  Uncle  Ruthven 
and  Aunt  Bessie  ;  and  a  little  later  were  to 
travel  with  papa  and  mamma,  winding  up  the 
summer  at  dear  old  Chalecoo,  where  they  had 
already  passed  one  such  pleasant  season. 
Such  visions  of  wonder  and  delight  danced 
before  their  minds ;  such  "  adventures  "  as 
Maggie  expected  to  meet  with,  furnishing 
"  subjects "  for  endless  compositions,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  continued  history  of  the 
"  Complete  Family  ;  "  such  plans  for  the  help 
and  comfort  of  dear  mamma,  who  had  said  she 
was  sure  this  trip,  undertaken  for  her  good, 
would  be  of  a  great  deal  more  service  to  her 
if  she  were  allowed  to  have  her  little  girls 
with  her ;  such  letters  as  they  were  to  write 
to  console  those  who  were  left  behind ;  why, 
there  was  no  end  to  them  all ;  and  fast  as  the 
little  tongues  were  accustomed  to  chatter, 
Maggie  declared  that  the  days  were  not  half 


A  Letter.  35) 

long  enough  for  all  the  thinking  and  talking 
they  had  to  do  now. 

And  now,  like  their  schoolmates,  we  must 
say  good-by  to  Maggie  and  Bessie  ;  and  J 
hope  you  have  found  that  earning  her  prize 
was  not  the  only  or  the  holiest  work  for  her 
Master  done  by  our  Bessie  at  School. 


